Being in the market for a baby car seat, I’d been doing some research on brands, types, and price ranges. After recovering from my initial shock when looking at prices, I decided that a convertible one (suitable from newborn – toddler) would suit our needs best. I then set about trying to source the cheapest one available that still met the appropriate safety standards. My best find was $168, which is no mean feat given that these things can cost in excess of $500 with the average at about $300. Then, miracle of miracles, a dear friend informed me that she’d like to buy us something for the baby, and decided she’d get us a car seat! Then, it happened… Browsing online, I stumbled across the latest Target catalogue. There was a baby sale – in two days – and right on the front cover was a Fisher Price convertibe car seat reduced from $300 to $150!
I HAD to have that car seat. I was utterly convinced it was a “bait” sale item, and there would only be one or two in stock in each store. I kicked into ultimate control mode and began setting up an elaborate (hopefully) fool-proof system. I’d seen the crowds jostling for prime position outside similar sales, and knew what I’d be up against. So, at precisely 8:30am Mum was to be waiting outsideTarget at Carindale, I would be at Target, Mt Gravatt, my sister-in-law would be at Target, Browns Plains, and a friend would be waiting at Target, Springwood. Between the four of us – that car seat would be mine! When anyone had their hands firmly grasping it, they would phone my mobile, and thus avoid all four of us buying one – should we each manage to nab one. After thinking it through, I calmed down. After all, God knew I needed a car seat, He knew I wanted THAT car seat, and if He wanted me to have it, I would get one. So I organised to go with my sister in law to Target, Browns Plains, while just Mum went to another store.
The day of the sale arrived. Anxiously I eyed the clock, and drove to the shop half an hour early. After navigating my way through the unfamiliar car parks at Browns Plains, I ended up parking at the opposite end of the centre, then waddling down to Target where I found Jacqui calmly waiting. There were only a couple of people there, so we took a bench seat near the entrance and waited. Within a few minutes, more and more people began turning up. Dad’s lined up, hands firmly gripping the handles of shopping trolleys while energetic children swung from the sides. Seasoned Mums with littlies in tow stood determinedly by, eyes fixed on the electric entrance doors. And rounded bellies of various sizes mingled about nervously, all in expectant silence. My anxiety increased as crowds gathered, but I maintained an outward appearance of calm.
“How many of these bellies do you think are going after my car seat?”, I muttered in a low voice to Jacqui. Casting an expert eye about the crowd, Jacqui replied knowingly, “Well, she’ll be using the car seat from her two older ones…” as she motioned to a third time Mum nearby, “And she’s….” I wasn’t listening, I was too busy nervously eyeballing my fellow competitors one by one, imagining myself in a tug of war over my prized baby seat, and wondering which of them I was likely to succeed over. And then, about five minutes before opening time, someone inched forward. Not much, but the crowd caught on. Everyone was suddenly clustering closer to the doors. ”Quick!”, I said to Jacqui, they’re moving in!” . Unperturbed, Jacqui assured me it was just the mob mentality. It was all ok. Just stay seated. I squirmed in my seat like a toddler who’d just scoffed a bag of red lollies and badly needed the bathroom and whined, “But I want to join the mob!” I leaned forward in anticipation as staff began milling about inside the store. I inched forward, right to the edge of the seat as the clock ticked ever closer to 8:30am and a Target staff member moved into the position by the door, finger poised to hit the button that would send the roller doors up, and the crowds hurtling in, but amazingly, I remained – just – seated.
At last it happened. The gut twisting climax arrived. The doors began to open. Mums, Dads, kids, trolleys, and round bellies mashed together as people ducked under the still half open doors, weaving about display stands and running for the baby section. Shooting from my seat like a rocket, I joined the throng. Smug shoppers who’d already grabbed a trolley from the nearby grocery store dashed by as a throng of us crammed into the trolley bay and fought and tugged at bent and wobbly trolleys stuck together as only shopping trolleys can. I didn’t mind though. I had a secret weapon – my lithe and fit sister-in-law, who knew the layout of Target like the back of her hand, ducked and weaved her way through the jumble of shoppers and waddling women to reach my baby seat at all costs. I would meet her with the trolley once the bounty was secured.
Once I had disentangled a trolley, and managed to control its tendancy to career every way but forward – as trolleys will – I headed for the baby section, secretly hopeful that Jacqui would be waiting, and in possession of the lucrative and elusive baby seat. Success!!! Jacqui had won the prize! As had at least 30 other shoppers – Target had a whole pallet load of them. Shortly after, my phone rang – Mum had also secured one at Target, Carindale. Amusingly, she was phoning from the courtesy desk as in her rush to be on time, she had left her mobile at home. To end our happy story, the seat was lay-byed, ready to be collected by the dear, dear friend who offered to buy it, and we also got the exact cot mattress I wanted at 25% off too. And so begins a long life of lining up with other crazed shoppers, frothing at the mouth in anticipation at every child related sale within 100km. I used to shake my head at those people.
As a side note, I recently saw a baby car seat for $30 cheaper. Such is life.
