Minor.

I think Dairy Queen would benefit from a lesson in the differences between major and minor.


Though I will admit the email subject line Get a minor deal on the All-New Mini Blizzard! isn't quite as compelling.

Shame.

This morning I received an email from DSW with the subject line "Meet your new go-to shoes." I opened it expecting to see some drool-inducing pair of leopard print flats, only to find this:


How on earth did they know that there's nothing more appealing to me these days than a flat, neutral comfort sandal available in wide width?*

Oh, how the mighty fall.

Less than two years ago my go-to shoes would have been a pair of four inch heels. Heck, at 35 weeks pregnant I was still teetering around the office in three inch platform sandals. But now my go-to shoes look like this:


I never thought I would stoop so low as to purchase a pair of Crocs for myself. Even if they are hot pink ballet flats. But my goodness, they're comfortable. And practical, given all the time I spend chasing my kid around the house/yard/park.

Don't worry, though. I haven't worn them anywhere but my backyard and the grocery store.

Yet.

*Not those, though. Those are seriously heinous. Completely unlike my pink rubber shoes which are super cu...oh, forget it. They're heinous, too. I have officially chosen comfort over style. Mom jeans, here I come.

Well played.

Pop quiz: Which recently rebuked-by-me retailer is a very bad listener?

Let me give you a clue:


















SHAME ON YOU, MR. BODEN.

The fact is, I brought this upon myself. I clearly stated that we might be able to work something out if he came back with a 40% discount. And that charming, wily man one-upped me by offering 50%.

If there's anything we've learned this week, it's that you should never underestimate the power of the tiny family blog.

Well played, Mr. Boden. My closet thanks you. My self-control does not.

Dear John(nie).

Dear Johnnie Boden:

Please stop sending me emails. Or at least emails including offers I can't refuse.

You see, I am poor. Well, not really poor, but I'm paying an arm and a leg for daycare and diapers every month, and I just got the first of what I have to assume will be multiple student loan balance letters regarding my husband's recently completed education. There is no room for you and your 30% off plus free shipping in my life.

Gosh, 30% off is a really good deal. That means the Amalfi dress I've been eying would only be $70....NO. NO NO NO.

No thank you, Mr. Boden!

You are preying on my weaknesses. Somehow, without even having met, you know I cannot turn away from tiny striped jeans for my son, or adorable printed skirts for me. You know I find your soft cotton fabrics and your whimsical polka dot packaging irresistible. You know I love putting Calvin in shirts that say delightful things like "Pony Ride."

But I cannot continue this relationship with you and your beguiling goods. Truly, I cannot. Please, take your 30% off plus free shipping (Free shipping! Shipping is a significant expense when you're ordering things from England, that's a serious cost savings...) and, well, you know. Keep it. For a while. Just hang on to it for me. I won't always be poor. And when I'm not, well...you and I are going to get to know each other very well.

Until then, dear Johnnie, I remain yours truly,

Abby

P.S. If you bumped the offer up to 40% plus free shipping and free returns we might be able to work something out much sooner. Just saying.

Really?!?

That's what I said this morning as I opened my email and saw this:


















Although I said it more like Seth and Amy, as in: really, Gap?!? The last email I got from you was about holiday delivery. We have two feet of snow on the ground. I still have my Christmas tree up. And the first day of winter was nine days ago.

So, no, I do not think I will take a first look at spring as your email suggests.

I mean, REALLY.

Getting Noticed: A primer.

According to the subject line of this email, this coat will get me noticed.

Let's go in for a closeup, shall we?



















Yes, well, I suppose someone would notice if I wearing this shiny, poofy, ugly-as-sin coat Nordstrom is hocking. They would notice me, and they would say to themselves, "Gee, I'm pretty sure I had that coat in 1989. Yes, in fact, I know I did. I wore it on the playground in sixth grade while playing tag with my best friend Tiffany. Over my NKOTB sweatshirt and leggings. Remember how cool my hair looked crimped?"

Just the type of reaction every girl hopes for when wearing something new.

Please spend your $149 elsewhere. Perhaps on one of these other truly attention-grabbing (in a good way) coats from Nordstrom. Coats Nordstrom should have highlighted in this email instead of that monstrously out-of-date-looking pufftastic piece of outerwear. Coats people may actually be inclined to purchase.

I don't blame the nice folks at Nordstrom for this error in judgment. I blame the coat's "Fine Shine." It's hard to be discerning with that much late 80s/early 90s glitz coming at you.