Moms

The Daddy Errand

On my way out the door last night to help a friend clean his father's house out, I got a call from upstairs, "Dad, I need some femine products. Can you pick some up at the store on your way home?"

Geeeze. I hate that. Why do I have to be the Tampon Taxi? We were all at Target last weekend, right near that department, and no one mentioned a shortage. Why weren't we proactive? Someone should have mentioned the shortage!

It's one thing to buy that stuff with a cart full of other items. But going in just for that? Man.

That night, I discovered that there are six hundred options on the female aisle. One of them can even make you fly! Seriously, it has wings. I started to buy a pack of those for myself, thought I'd tape them to my back and jump off the porch. I bet that's what Peter Pan used.

Unfortunately, I didn't have enough cash.

There were the "all night longers", the "breezy while you workers" and I think I saw a "start your day at schooler". They came in the shape of a U, an L, a T and a B. I challenged the woman next to me to a game of Scrabble. She didn't take me up on it. She could probably sense my affinity for words.

There were liners and pads and full on insulation. I think it's the same stuff that's lining the walls of my attic - they call it Tyvek.

A couple had aloe and one had vitamin E. Who needs a multi-vitamin with those in the house?

I could have started a band: one clicked, another snapped - there was one with a toot and a pad-da-pat-pat.

Some came in "bold colorful styles" ...

Why?

The reason I'm so educated on this subject is because I read each of the names and several of the labels when I phoned home for product clarification. It took three conversations to complete this daddy errand.

At least I've passed the point of embarrassment at purchasing these items. I just tossed them on the counter, asked if they happen to be on sale, and smiled at the lady like all four boxes were for me.

Indeed they were buy one box get the second half price. Now you're speaking my language.

(P.S. - I specifically asked my daughters if I could write about this adventure. The general sentiment seemed to be: We don't care. You were the dork walking through the drug store, not us.)

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