My Nana was a very fashionable lady. When I was little, I remember playing in and among her fancy coats hanging in their hall closet, wrapping myself up in furs (cringe, yes, real, I know, but to a six year old they felt like heaven and my Nana, so forgive me), sashaying in dress coats and scarves. She had the teeniest waist, Kelly Ripa-esque, and while she wasn’t tall, she made up for it with attitude. I realized just how wide her style varied when I was looking through her closet during a trip home this summer. She had pantsuits, ‘60’s inspired dresses and go go dresses, sheer, printed, patterned, you name it. And it wasn’t just clothes. She had a love for all the finer things in life for sure. (Maybe that’s where I get it?)

Knowing that about her, you would never imagine that she would have developed such a love with the great superstore Target (and this was before they had access to fancy designers)! She used to make fun of herself by using the French pronunciation Tar-jay, and she used to giggle every time. I have carried on her love of all things tagged with the infamous red bullseye, and apparently I am passing them on as well…these few instances and conversations with my favorite two year old might prove my point.

While doing “This Little Piggy,” Luke changed it to “This little piggy went to Target…” (My Bompop used to play this with my mom, then me, and he was the one who taught Luke the original version.)

When I pull into the Target parking lot (either of the two in our area), he yells from the backseat, “Yey! Target!”

When he found money on the floor at my parents’ house, we asked him what he was going to do with it. He responded with, “Go to Target.”

When we run out of something, cereal, rice, juice, milk, toys, (last night it was water-and no we didn’t run out of water, but he was out of water in his cup), he stands up, grabs the nearest bag and his car keys and says “I’m going to Target to get some more. I’ll be right back.” [His pronunciation of ‘some more’ sounds closer to the only Girl Scout cookie that I cannot stand: sa-moa.]

Anytime we are driving and he doesn’t know where we are going, or sometimes even if he does, he asks, “Are we going to Target?”

He saw a Target bag on the counter in our kitchen and pronounced, “A present! Can I have it? For me?”

Me: “Luke, do you want to go to the store?”

Luke: “No.”

Me: “Do you want to go to Target?”

Luke: “YES!”
I guess it’s off to Target we go…