Target now prints out coupons at the cash register. It kind-of freaks me out how well the Target computer system knows me.
Coupons for the brand of cat food Zoey loves? Great. Coupons for $5 off a new pair of shoes? Fabulous. Coupons for those feminine products right on time? Ok, now that's just weird.
However, bizarre as it may sound, I have accepted the fact that Target is my new therapist.
This week I stopped into Target. While paying, the register popped out a coupon for Cottonelle Moistened Toilet Wipes. My heart dropped. A silly boy I haven't thought about in quite some time used those butt wipes. He loved them. Wouldn't poop without them. He traveled with them. Do you know any other boy who travels with butt wipes?
Sigh. Memories flooded back. I grabbed the coupon and receipt, jumped into my car, and sat staring at the stupid coupon. Stupid memories. Was this a sign? Should I call him? Why couldn't it work? Stupid butt wipes.
Then it hit me.
I was getting upset over butt wipes?
He was a butt wipe. This was a crock of shit. I was through letting someone crap all over me and ruin my day.
Screw you, butt wipe.
And thank you, Target.