Husband and I went shopping on Friday. First, we finally managed to close out the rest of a Sears gift card. Sometimes, I hate gift cards. This one has haunted us for MONTHS, taunting us with our inability to spend it. We rid ourselves of it at long last, purchasing a hilarious ensemble of completely necessary items. That’d be: yoga mat, KU capri pants, baby footy pajamas, baby camo dinosaur outfit, baby overalls, window shades for the car, ping pong balls, and a solar cat that was supposed to go outside but is now one of our actual cat’s best friend. I don’t have the heart to separate them, so if you come over to my house please ignore the yard art that has made its way inside. Thanks.
The yoga mat was the first thing I grabbed. It’s green. It has a flower on it. It’s very cute. Scott looked at me skeptically the moment I picked it up.
Scott – You’re getting that?
Me – Oh, yeah. I need it.
Scott – WHY do you need it?
Me – So I don’t sweat all over the carpet.
Scott – You sweat while doing yoga?
Me – Yyyyeeeessss…
Scott – I think you’re doing it wrong.
Me – That’s what I’ve been saying! I think the sweating part is normal, though. It is actually exercise.
He still looked skeptical, but I think I’m right. Sweating is normal in yoga, right? Right?
After Sears, we headed over to Town Center because I’d never been. It kind of reminds me of South Carolina. Maybe it was all the people I saw dressed up, or that one guy wearing a pink polo shirt. Our destination was Dick’s Sporting Goods (I cannot simply say the shortest form of that store name. I just can’t.), but it was coming up dinner time for all three of us and the only reasonable option was Panera. Scott wasn’t too excited because they ALWAYS get his order wrong, either putting his plain ham & cheese on rye bread or adding some mustard for pizzazz. I think he’s a little afraid of Panera now.
As we’re looking for a parking spot, Scott says, “hey, that’s Tom Watson.” I look at the older gentleman walking casually towards Panera. I didn’t really even see his face, but still I disagree: It is not. “It is!” What is Tom Watson the golfer doing in Kansas City? “He lives here, Megan.” He does? “Yes! I think he’s from here.” No way.
Scott was right, on all counts. My brother (who I called to confirm Scott’s whole, “Tom Watson lives in Kansas City” story) said we should go over and say hello because ol’ Tom is “supposed to be about the nicest guy there is.” We didn’t, of course, because I’m a wimp and I sort of felt like if I didn’t even know the guy lived in Kansas to begin with I didn’t deserve to go over and interrupt his dinner. I did walk past his table on my way to take Drake to the restroom for a diaper change, and he smiled at my cute baby as we walked by.
We did finally end up at the sporting goods store previously mentioned, where we marveled at the 47 different choices of running shorts Nike makes. All different colors and patterns and patterns and colors. Stupendous. They were on sale, and when we saw this fun green and yellow number I knew I had to have it:
Scott agreed that they were fun (he’d already nixed two of my favorite, crazy 80’s patterned ones), so I brought then along with me. Then, Scott found some that had a matching singlet. Ooh. I have an alumni race this weekend, and while I could (and probably should) show up in my usual running attire, it’d be fun to have an outfit with a singlet that actually fit. Operation Slim Down has come to an abrupt halt, and most of my “small” tops are belly-baring. Ew.
But then, a moment of sadness. “If I get this, I can’t get the green ones,” I said quietly. I was preparing to return them when Scott replied, “get them both. You always need running shorts, right.”
I bought both, but on the drive home I was doing a mental tally of how many Nike tempo shorts I already own. I’m not talking about ANY OTHER brand or ANY OTHER Nike short. The number grew alarmingly, and by the time we were pulling into the driveway I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, I have a problem akin to my friend the Trophy Wife’s cardigan obsession.
I’ll let you be the judge. Do you know how many of the exact same running short (in different colors) I own?
EIGHT. The same number as all of the other running shorts (Adidas, Reebok, Pearl Izumi, Nike racing) I own. That makes 16 pairs of running shorts. I’m not sure I do enough running to justify this.
Clearly, I have a problem. (Sidenote: I realize there are only 7 pairs of shorts in that photo. After I took it, I realized that the ones I’d worn the day before were in the washer. I was going to take another picture later, but at that point a different pair was dirty and I could just see that going on forever.)
I’d say I need help, but looking at these I realized that the oldest pair (on the left) have been around since my junior year of high school. The red pair I bought from an outlet store when I was in college, and the three in the middle were purchased randomly during marathon training. The gray/green pair in the center I pulled off a sales rack on a day when I was scheduled to run downtown with Running Buddy but had forgotten a sport bra and shorts. The black and green ones were worn on one of our first “family runs” with LilRunr in the jogging stroller, and the black and blue ones will be worn this weekend at my Alumni Race. There are lots of memories in these little pieces of nylon, and clearly I’m not letting them go to waste.
Maybe I don’t have a problem, after all. 🙂