First she came for my daughter's chocolate syrup with a splash of milk.  Then she came for my child's BMI.  Then my French fries and shaker of salt.  J.Crew sweater sets, gym class, my breast pump -- all tainted.  Now this?! Target.  Really?  The last refuge of bargain-shopping moms, has-been designers, and ingenious knock-offs -- is nothing safe from tyranny-lovers?  In the words of our youngest at this morning's breakfast table, "I thought you were the First Lady of Target, mom!"  I did, too, dear -- I did, too. The Obama campaign has been booty-calling all week -- asking me to dinner, telling me to just relax, assuring me how needed I am, asking me to believe the campaign is living on coffee and bad takeout all on my behalf.  Maybe the Obama for America office, headquartered appropriately in Chicago, is in an actual food desert -- or more than one mile from a suitable grocery -- which is why the people there have had to resort to food...(Read Full Post)