The Art of the Deal

This morning, I was privy to an area of life that I will never experience on my own. It wasn’t part of my destiny. Thankfully I can learn and grow from these deal makers.

In the span of 45 minutes I witnessed complicated debates, compromises, clenched threats and intricate deals spun like Charlotte’s web. It was amazing. Nay mesmerizing. Where was I? The Hill? A courtroom? No. I was shopping for shoes at DSW Warehouse.

In the time it took me to try on and purchase five pairs ( who knew I could be a shopper?) of shoes, the toddler brigade of Northern Virginia tested their respective mother’s within inches of their precious lives. Did you know that a 2.5-year-old little boy can make excellent use of the wadded up pieces of tissue paper that annoys the shoe shopping public? Indeed. Charlie was quite industrious. He turned them into badminton birds and used the molded pieces of plastic (equally irritating) as his and little Eddie’s racquets. Their net was one of the many low rows of shoes, DSW’s trademark layout. Cecilia, who was getting an early start of her disdain for wadded up tissue paper, decided to shred them all into various heaps throughout the store. Joey, stroller-bound literally, was practicing untying and hurling his shoes at his mother. In his defense, he was simply imitating his mom. I mean really.

While I was checking out, I watched the following negotiations:

Charlie: Sentenced to 15 minutes of time out after forfeiting the game and cleaning up his mess.

Little Eddie: Incriminated in the makeshift badminton tourney, lost his trip to McDonald’s.

Cecilia: Guilty of littering, was told that her afternoon play date would be cancelled unless she cease and desist immediately. I watched her also grab a few of the badminton birds left behind by Charlie and Lil Eddie.

Joey: Asked by his mother if he saw anyone else having shoe tantrums? His response was to hit her square in the head with his other shoe.

All this reminded me why I despise shopping. It also gave me a better understanding of the whole Mother’s Day Out schematic. If these ladies can’t get their short reprieves, I am not sure that today’s toddlers would make it into adulthood.