Do I Dare?

Today I was planning on buying a wedding shower gift for my cousin's shower this Saturday. She's registered at two of the usual places - Crate and Barrel and Bed Bath & Beyond. I think for normal people buying a gift that is on a list is easy enough, but even when I'm shopping alone I have trouble picking something out, what more to having both kids with me, both of whom are always whining to hang out at the housewares section of every store we go to. Not! Even though I hate Target's gift registry, I almost wish my cousin had registered there - just because they have a toy section. That way I can lead the kids on with empty promises of hanging out there for the rest of the day as long as they stay put while I figure out what to buy off of the darned registry list.

I almost think Crate and Barrel might actually be a fun thing to do because I could have sworn I saw the sun shining this morning. The closest one to me is at an outdoor mall, so that might be a good opportunity to get some fresh air. I just have to remember to refrain from parking near that cursed elevator, the one that goes from the parking area up to the mall, the one that has the doors that open right up to the threshold of the Disney Store. Aaaaah! Of course, I forget which elevator this is every single time, so I'm always forced to go into that store and follow my daughter around while she peruses their whole entire Princess inventory, three times over. That is one store that can definitely make me go insane.

But then again, the whole purpose of going anywhere today is to buy a wedding shower gift. As my husband always says when he shops with me, "Stay on target!" I'm sure my daughter will be wondering why on earth I have to look over the spatulas and dishtowels over and over again because they all look the same to her. Little does she know how difficult it is to make sure I'm looking at the correct item, especially since I'm constantly buying the wrong things at the grocery store. On more than one occasion I have had the full intention of buying regular coffee, but somehow I manage to grab decaf instead. My last snaffoo involved microwave popcorn. I was LOOKING at the regular microwave popcorn - honestly! But when I got home, I found a big box of kettle corn popcorn in the grocery bag. How'd that happen?!

The last couple of showers I attended had a theme involved. The problem is, things like towels and bedsheets tend to add up pretty quickly, so if I buy the whole set I run the risk of spending way more than I want to. This is just a shower gift anyway. The real splurging happens when I buy the wedding gift. So instead of having some blah little box with two washcloths and a bar of soap (with the wrapping paper, that can easily add up to $40!! which is why I like it when people register at department stores because then the wrapping is free and done all pretty), it always helps to do it up in a neat little theme. This time I'm considering a pancake theme... get her that griddle, spatula and whisk on her registry, maybe throw in a big mixing bowl (which would involve deviating from the list, but I don't want to spent $25 on the set she registered for if I'm getting her those other items... besides how can you have too many mixing bowls?). Then I can hit Michael's later on this week since their baskets are on sale. And voila! There's her gift. Oh, and I'll even throw in my own pancake recipe, the one I use every weekend that my family loves.

Of course, as I sit here with my thoughts intact, that sounds so easy to do. The actual task of getting all of these things together is another thing. I have a feeling that once my son sees the griddle, spatual, whisk, or mixing bowl in the shopping cart, he'll automatically think these are items he can play with since he invades my kitchen cabinets daily and pretends to cook. I won't be surprised if he throws a tantrum, keeping in mind that during this whole shopping excursion my daughter will have likely started her whining the moment the automatic doors open, beckoning us to enter.

Then again, maybe that won't happen. Maybe by some miracle of God, they will both be calm and quiet. Maybe my daughter will walk alongside me in silence, casually pointing at the pretty silk flowers and beaded pillows, and my son will sit in his stroller or in the cart happily munching away on his Cheerios. I have to remember that maybe, just maybe, things like that are possible, otherwise I'd never leave the house.