Sweet Revenge

Da Kid heard it growing up but Hubby and I knew it never sank in. We usually began, "Kids ain't cheap," and often finished with something along the lines of, "but this is insane!"

A good example is the pants Da Kid had to wear as part of his high school uniform. Navy blue Dockers of a specific style. On sale at the beginning of the school year, $45 a pair and he needed five to get through the week. Then after he got out of school and before I could pick him up after work, he'd go play basketball and rip the shit out of 'em.

Once? No, constantly and NOTHING his father or I said would make him stop. Add to it the year he REALLY shot up. What he didn't manage to destroy he outgrew.

Outgrew, four times.

That's only one example. Through it all, as most parents I'm sure do, the only think that kept us from killing him was the knowledge that one day if he became a parent, he'd find himself in the same situation.

Hubby's not here, but I'm sure he knows it's begun. Revenge is ours!

If all goes well, "Bump" will arrive in the late Spring and will, of course, need "stuff." Like a place to sleep.

Da Kid had it all figured out. Walmart! Until I happened to mention he'd better be careful to make sure none of what they carried had been recalled.

"How do you recall a crib?" he asked certain I didn't know what I was talking about.

It's been all over the news, I said quite casually, about the latest round of recalls. Strangled babies. Maybe, I suggested, he'd better start paying more attention to the news.

A few days later Da Kid, Herself and I went on an exploratory run looking at baby furniture at several stores. Which is when, seeing the price tags, Da Kid's eyes began to project about four inches from his face.

(And no help from me or Herself's parents allowed, they insist. Like everything else, they'd do it themselves.)

Manly man that he is (and obviously, desperately wanting to get the hell away from the high-priced nightmare he'd found himself in) Da Kid expansively told Herself to pick out whatever she wanted. He'd work extra shifts to pay for it.

Which has worked out great!

Since he's been working extra shifts at every opportunity to pay for the furniture, Herself and I have gone on our own exploratory runs without having to take him with us.

Today, finally, I looked at Herself and she looked at me. Between us, no words were needed.

"Yep!"

Not five or six hundred dollars like others, and not $350 if we'd ordered it online. But $199 because it's a floor model and has a scratch way down on one of its legs.

Are you nuts, Doyle? You think $199 is a good deal on a crib?

Not exactly.

It also converts to a toddler bed, then a youth bed and finally, a real bed-bed.

The price of the separate, matching changing table / dresser -- last one in stock and also a floor model -- had been slashed, too.

Da Kid can come home now. Instead of the couple thousand he was figuring . . . just over $500. Including tax.

No delivery, though. That would be an additional charge and I strongly suspect -- since he has a big truck -- Da Kid would prefer saving a few more bucks and pick it all up himself.

Especially since before he left, he noticed the price on a package of disposable diapers.