Costco Moms

Sometimes I am jealous of the Costco Moms. You know them, the ones who drive to the nearest Costco, (which in our case is about 20 miles away) to buy in bulk and save a few bucks. I don't really know anyone who could quantify their savings by shopping there, but everyone shares in the illusion of practicality. Honestly, buying toilet paper in bulk is truly satisfying. I've tried to go many times, and I've even tried to convince myself that it's worth it but I don't have the patience to read the price per item labels and then actually compare it to other items! Who does that? I end up distracted by the book table. Especially the children's books. Usually, the book table consists of whatever is the latest paperback book club item. But you can occasionally find some gems and there are great gifts for your friends who basically read off the NYTimes bestseller list. There is definitely a large Christian theme on the table but if you dig under those you can find some great cookbooks. There is something very incongruent about digging through Christian books at Costco since the whole time I'm there I feel a vague unease and decadence. Even though I'm uncomfortable with gigantic boxes of transfats and cornsyrup, I'm still jealous of the people who have no qualms about it. How to live in the carefree world of waste and empty calories? I have overeducated myself on the evils of transfats and environmental degradation. I have been in "the cave" (see Plato)(or Saramago) and can't go back. Once I was at a one-year-old's birthday party which was huge. Every member of the extended family and neighborhood was there and the mom had purchased every piece of plastic shlockety schlock you can imagine. The place was overflowing with juice boxes and sundae toppings and paper products and the giant blow up jumping thing that you can purchase at Costco. The kids, the ones who were a little older and actually cognizant of their environment, were having a blast. They were sticky and dirty and covered in sprinkles. They were blowing bubbles and squirting each other with plastic weapons and all was right in suburbia. Except that I can't stop myself from thinking about landfills (see Idiocracy) and overindulgence and the birthday boy who wouldn't remember any of it. Of course I kept my wet-blanket thoughts to myself because secretly I was thinking "Wow. How nice to be so oblivious." Maybe we were all thinking the same thing and just giving into the lull of our suburban lives. "We work hard. Let's forget for a moment. Let's celebrate now and recycle tomorrow!" Maybe if one mom had stood up, maybe if I had stood up, and shouted (after the cake of course) "This is Bullshit!" we would have all stopped in wonderment, looked at ourselves hard for just a moment, and embraced one another in our new found appreciation of all things ridiculous and unnecessary! "Take back the art of parenting! Take back the birthday ritual! And take back that obnoxious 126-pack of Juicy juice!" But I kind of doubt it.