Signs

It's called foreshadowing.

So when I heard a sad, "Maaaamaaaa," over the baby monitor at 6:45 a.m., just as I was about to put on my running shoes, I should've known. T Junior typically gets up around 8:30. It was a sign.

I should've planned on getting nothing done right then. But no. I just plowed through the day like everything was normal when it wasn't. The kid took a nap at 9:30 for crying out loud.

We had to go to Target. If we didn't, we'd be out of hand soap and bread -- necessities. Besides, I wanted to get some things to help T Junior. He has a cold and is producing as much slime as those dinosaurs that ate Newman in Jurassic Park.

Before we left for the store, I stuffed my coat pockets with tissues. They definitely came in handy, but I was glad I also had a package of Kleenex in my purse (Wow! I'm actually prepared for something).

It took me a long time to gather all the items I needed to buy because we stopped every 30 seconds (seriously) to wipe T Junior's gushing nose and watering eyes. Garage to check-out line took about an hour and a half.

The cashier bagged $80-worth of Dial, fruit bars, bread, vitamins and the last two boxes of Vicks Plug-In refills as I slid my debit card and punched in my code. I was loading bags into the cart when she said it.

"Your card's declined."

I gasped. "What?"

"Your card was declined."

But she didn't need to tell me twice because I knew why. It's FEBRUARY. My card expired in 01/10. Mr. T has been bugging me to put my new one in my purse, but I didn't. I forgot. I could picture it still tucked in the white bank envelope on my kitchen counter.

Embarrassed, I explained that I would have to give all of the bags back to her as I had no way of paying. I don't carry a credit card, and I didn't notice the checkbook under the dirty baby socks in my purse until I'd calmed down a bit and was huddled safely in my Odyssey. I wanted to cry.

Poor T Junior. I'm so embarrassed. Poor T Junior. What a waste of time. Poor T Junior.

I drove home like that.

But after getting home and having some lunch, I felt better. We felt better. I still needed those things, though, and the thought of having to make a trip to Target during the work week exhausted me. "Let's just get it over with," I said to my living room.

T Junior was a good sport as I buckled him in his carseat again. Off we went.

To a different Target.