making Tim Gunn... not so proud

paging CPS...

Let me tell you about my morning. I was in H-borough, visiting my parents with The Bug, and I wanted to meet my friend Jamie for coffee in Raleigh. This trip normally takes about 20-25 minutes, 30 on a very bad day. Well, with Raleigh being what it is, i.e. a lot of high-speed interstate driving among Evel Knievel's many descendents, there was an accident this morning of apparently ginormous proportions. The accident took place right underneath my exit's overpass, and though I never did find out what it was, I knew of the accident's existence approximately 9 miles in advance. Sigh. It happens. What can you do, other than roll with the punches, crank up the radio, cross your fingers that the baby will keep on napping, and meditate.

More than an hour and less than 5 miles later, Jamie and I decided via phone that I would take an early exit and muddle through the back streets of Wake and Durham counties to our agreed-upon destination, Caribou Coffee. I took the exit, and using my non-existent Spidey Sense, proceeded to get pretty damn lost. I backtracked, took another wrong turn, backtracked again, and eventually, freaking finally, just under 2 hours after I left the house, I made it to coffee.

Now, I noticed K.Lo needed a change just as I was putting her in the carseat before we left. I figured, well, it's all right. It'll be half an hour, tops, and I can get the kid into a new diaper, and all will be well. Not so. Also not so was the presence of any sort of back-up clothing, which, it turned out, was more than badly needed. After the diaper change, the whole outfit was going to have to come off, plain and simple. Caribou is in a shopping center with, what else, Target, and so I decided the best course of action would be to purchase a new, clean outfit for The Bug, and get her home.

The poor thing. I needed to at least, I don't know, wrap her in something. But what? There was no outfit, no blankets, no extra sweaters of mine thrown in the back. Keeping in mind that the absence of any of these in my car, much less all three, is unprecedented until today (and will of course, never henceforth be repeated). The only thing I had was a hat, and a pillowcase. And, they kind of matched, so... why not. So, into Target we went, carefully avoiding as many people as possible, straight to the baby section and the checkout line, where the cashier commented, "You gotta get some clothes on that kid." Hee. You think?

Meanwhile, you know that dream where you show up to school naked? My crystal ball forecasts K.Lo having a disturbing recurrent dream throughout her life of a similar nature.

I keep having this dream, where I show up to Target, of all places, and I'm not wearing anything... and everyone's staring. I don't know, it really feels so real, like I've been there before? What could it mean?