Return to Sender.

Yesterday I was NOT in the mood to abide by a budget. (Come to think of it... when am I in the mood to abide by a budget??)

This always happens when I have two free hours with only one child. In always end up wandering in a most dangerous land called Marshalls.

It's like a train wreck waiting to happen, my budget and Marshalls. With my budget being an old, rusted out VW bug, just sittin' on the tracks saying "Go ahead and put me out of my misery" as the Marshalls express comes looming.

I actually had a *point* to going in, though. It wasn't just mindless browsing for some colorful shoes that might make me look thin. (If that makes no sense to you, you're obviously lacking in cankles. See Exhibit B, according to Google image search.)

No, I was there to look for a sensible twin comforter for my son's new bed. I was hoping to find something that was just perfect, because--at Marshalls--you never know. So I was browsing and found a couple of promising, if still just a touch bit feminine, twin down alternative comforters. But then it occured to me--I could sure use new stuff for *my* bed. And if I get new stuff for *my* bed, then I can use my old stuff for Big Boy's bed. It might be a little big. So what? He's always kicking his covers off anyway.

The wheels in my head are turning as I start browsing through more beautiful possibilities. Then I saw this:

Um. Yes, please.

So, with a dash of unbridled abandon and a good heap of stubborn "I don't give a care", I plunked it on top of my cart and made for the register.

Before the hour was out, it was firmly in place on my bed. I confessed my budget sin to The Spouse, but I'm afraid I didn't even ask for absolution. Nope. Some sins you'd just rather live with.

But, of course, the shoulder angel appears. Tsk-ing. "Wouldn't you rather have diapers? Or food?" the shoulder angel whines.

Quite honestly? No.

But the shoulder angel wins. The shoulder angel, when combined with the slightly crestfallen face of my spouse, always wins. So it's back in it's bag. Lovingly refolded, just as it was. With plans to return it, this very day.

So I was laying in bed this morning under a Bed in a Bag comforter that our home's former owners left in the bathroom, and not pouting at all, when my Beloved hesitantly told me that he was going out to lunch today, and did I mind?

Nope.

Not at all.

As long as he doesn't mind if I come home with a new dining room set.

He kissed my head goodbye, but I could swear I heard some muttering about an inch and a mile...