Rye and I went to the mall yesterday -- at his request -- to make a puppy of his very own at Build-a-Bear Workshop.
We've never really done this, besides making a dinosaur this summer at T-Rex Cafe in Kansas City.
We may never do it again.
The experience wasn't awful really; it just wasn't fun. I think Saturday afternoon is probably the worst time to take your child to a place where kids run wild and lines are long. I realized this once we'd gotten there, of course.
We probably waited 25 minutes just to get the little dog stuffed with fluffy love. At one point, Rye even said, I don't want this anymore. (But then he quickly changed his mind.)
So about 40 minutes and $13 later, we left the "workshop" with a stuffed dog named simply "Puppy" and a tired 3-year-old requesting curly fries.
We stopped at Baby Gap (where none of the clothes that are on sale online are actually on sale in the store) and then at the Gap where Rye insisted I give him a piggy back ride. Have you ever tried to flip through clothes on a rack while giving a 3 1/2 year old a piggy back ride, carrying two winter coats and a giant shopping bag with a just-made puppy in it? Avoid it, if you haven't.
I ended up buying a purse on sale for $10.97 and I used a gift card I'd gotten for Christmas to pay. The cashier, some spoiled Millard West kid, I'm sure, said, "Big spender, huh?"
And I looked at him and said, "Are you making fun of me?"
Him: "No. Just a little."
I was pissed.
He handed my gift card back and said "Well, you've still got $38 left. You could buy some sale jeans."
And he was totally chidng me. He was also yawning and announcing how tired he was.
Several things ran through my mind to say back to him. The options:
"Not all of us have unlimited money to spend on clothes at the Gap. Some of us have day care and a mortgage and car payments and health bills and despite the fact we work really hard at full-time jobs, we don't happen to be doctors or lawyers or engineers like your dad must be. So I can't just drop $60 on a pair of already thin jeans, despite how great they might be."
"Maybe I'll check out the jeans after I have this baby that's protruding from my tummy."
"Where is your manager?"
I didn't say any of those things, though. I simply thanked him and left. Sometimes, it's easier to be the bigger person, right? To set a good example for the tired 3-year-old?
We left the mall soon after, both of us happy to be heading home.