That shameful moment of defeat when you have to admit you cannot, in fact, handle carrying 27 items in your arms through the store.
Nothing like having to avoid the disapproving stares of strangers as your kid screams about what a horrible mom you are because YOU MADE HER PUT BACK THE CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH AND SHE REALLY, REALLY WANTS THE CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH AND WHY DO YOU NEVER LET HER GET CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH, SHE NEVER GETS ANYTHING SHE WANTS, EMMA’S MOM LETS HER EAT CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH FOR DINNER IN BED, WHY CAN’T YOU BE NICE LIKE EMMA’S MOM?!
You see the line of women waiting outside for the restroom? THEY KNOW IT WAS YOU.
But you felt the contractions! You could practically see that baby crowning! AND YOU ARE TIRED OF BEING HUGE AND PREGNANT!
No…? No baby yet? Barely even dilated…? ~Sigh~
Saddest. Walk. To the Car. EVER.
Hey, it had been a long week. And your tolerance isn’t what it once was. But you don’t even remember bidding on that ceramic fish box that you apparently won in the silent auction. Or getting that Tony Danza tattoo on your calf. Based on the knowing smiles you’re getting from other parents on Monday morning, however, they DO remember. Maybe they can tell you which tattoo parlor you used.
In your defense, the referee really DOES need “a new pair of f*cking glasses.”
This is perhaps the most common Walk of Shame for moms (and pretty much everyone else in Target’s clutches), despite our strongest resolve upon entering the store. FOILED AGAIN BY THE EVIL GENIUSES OF TARGET! Oh yes, foiled time and time again.