Buyers Remorse

Yesterday I bought a few things from Target - clothes - on clearance. Let me pause right there, if you are just catching up with me...I LOVE Target. I LOVE Target clothes. I LOVE things on clearance. I *hate* trying clothes on in the store; too much effort. I get impulsive when I see things I like on clearance...so I buy without proper research. And as I have aged, I have noticed that I know I am probably going to feel remorseful about the impulsive and poor fitting clothes I bought, because I didn't do the work necessary ahead of time. More on this in a minute...

Yesterday I received one of the loveliest emails...the kind that make you giggle and feel grateful for such sweet moments. Some background first; well, Matteo (who is seven) has pretty much been my shadow for a long time. He only went through a short phase where it didn't matter if I was in the room or not, in the country or out, giving him gum or not...but he has gone full tilt and now just loves being around me, telling me stories, sharing with me what he wants to ask for this Christmas, and showing off his cool Legos. Okay, the email I received was from his mom and was about him. We call him Bubba or Bubby or Bubsy. Here is what it said: So your Bubby was at the kitchen table playing with Play-Doh this morning while I was doing dishes and he told me that he can't wait until he is 18 to marry you. I said, "But what if Miss Kristine marries another man before you're 18?", and he said, "No, Miss Kristine said she will wait for me to grow up so I can marry her". And then he gave me the sweetest smile. Bubby is in LOVE! How innocent and sweet is that? I almost didn't want to blog about it, as a way of preserving the sweetness. But, I celebrate with all of you readers, the authentic love that kids give out. I hope you feel that, see that, know it, and cultivate it! I got another email later that day, that said that Bubba was telling his older brother about how he was going to marry me. I well up with tears each time I think of how sweet that is. And then I can assure you that part of me is crying out for that "real life" (grown up version) of that fairy tale to begin, to commence....To be rescued or pursued, to be the "princess" of someone's story. Or less fairy tale like: The partner in "crime," ministry, or parenting. The companion, best friend, comedian or travel partner. The person who dialogues with you about tithing, paying bills (Each month I know how that conversation goes...and it is quite boring); vacations, what to spend time on, energy on, or to discuss philosophical wonderings, like: IF YOU HAD 140 LIMES, WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH THEM? WHAT WOULD YOU NAME A DALMATIAN IF YOU HAD IT AS A PET? ARE THERE ZOO'S IN AFRICA, IF SO, WHAT ANIMALS ARE IN THEM? HOW DO YOU DEFINE LEADERSHIP? WHAT DOES HEAVEN LOOK LIKE? WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BUTTER BRICKLE, PRALINE, TOFFEE, AND CARAMEL? That kind of stuff. But, alas, it is not my story now....

Back to the dress. Today I took it back to Target and three other things I had purchased. I felt bad for spending the money I had and the clothes didn't look right. I had a combination of buyers remorse and wrong sizes. It's quite impressive how effective buyers remorse is, albeit not worthy of mental energy or obsession.

Much like buyer's remorse, I am hoping that my vulnerability here doesn't cause me to feel remorseful tomorrow. You know how it goes...sometimes you wish you hadn't said things that you did, but I have written a bit from my heart right here for the world to see. I am not ashamed. It's true: there is an adventure we all long for, that I do not yet know, but hope to someday.