My True Gap Rewards

On Saturday morning, I packed up Youngest Daughter and we took off on a five-hour car trip to Omaha, Nebraska.  I grew up outside of Omaha, but once my sister and I started having children, my parents decided to move 24 hours away to the Southernmost tip of Texas.  After 13 summers of 110 degree temps coupled with 100% humidity, my parents decided to buy a house on the Elkhorn River near Omaha so they could summer up north.  And who doesn't dream about a summer home in Nebraska?

One of the few benefits to this very long, very drawn out car ride is the Gap Outlet located about 90 minutes to my west.  I am a total Gap Girl - my uniform is khaki pants, capris or shorts, coupled with various colored t-shirts and cardigans.  Armed with my $10 Rewards coupon and my Gap Visa, I pulled into the outlet center.  Fifteen minutes later, I was checking out with around $100 worth of stuff, when I see other shoppers pulling out a computer printout with their Friends and Family coupons on them for an additional 30% off.  DOH!  I forgot about that!  And mine is sitting in my computer inbox, all lonesome.  No worries, the guy at the register tells me I can get a price adjustment within 7 days of purchase.  I'll just swing back in on my way home, and voila!  Let the savings commence!

We drove to my parents' place, saw my sister and her daughter, and had a lovely time.  There is nothing like falling asleep in a second floor room surrounded with open windows, hearing the cottonwood leaves rustling in the cool nighttime breeze.  Perfect sleeping weather.  Add that to the fact that YD spent the night at her cousin's house and I had a full bed to myself, and I give the night an A++.  I woke to Mom brewing coffee and the birds singing....it's too much bliss!

I was lucky enough to see two of my high school friends (the ones who removed my skin tag) and I have pictures, but I can't post them because my laptop is still virused out and I don't know how to upload pics on our main computer...or I am too lazy to figure it out.  Anyway, my friend printed a Gap 30% Friends and Family coupon on her computer.  After a couple of hours at the pool with them, I took off with just enough time to make it into the door of The Gap to do my biznez with them.  I start driving and just outside of Omaha, YD falls asleep.  Could it be going any more smoothly?

About 30 minutes away from The Gap, YD wakes up and starts whimpering.  Her stomach hurts.  When are we going to stop?  I tell her we are stopping in 30 minutes and she can make it, because YD frequently invokes the Hurting Stomach privilege in the car to force us to pull over and eventually get her a snack and drink.  Soon, YD is actually crying.  "You know all of those times when I lie about my stomach hurting?  This is NOT ONE OF THOSE TIMES!"  I tell her we will pull over in 10 minutes, and I start scouting the road for prospective pull over sites.  I have nothing.  I'm in Eastern Iowa on Interstate 80 with about five billion truckers driving 18-wheelers 20 miles over the speed limit with a narrow shoulder.  It's getting worse.  I'm thinking to myself, "Stay calm.  She is not really that sick, it's just car sickness, and when she gets out of the car she will be fine."  

I look at the clock.  The Gap closes in 15 minutes, and I can only do this transaction at this particular Gap Outlet, which is 90 minutes west of my house.  YD is whimpering.  The exit appears.  Thank you, Jesus!  We pull into the parking lot with 10 minutes to spare.  I get YD out of the car and ask her how she is doing.  She says she's okay, but her tummy still hurts.


ME:  "Do you need to go to the bathroom?  Will that help?"
YD:  "No.  It just hurts."
ME:  "Does it hurt like a stabby pain or a dull pain?"
YD:  "It just hurts."
ME:  "Is there anything that sounds good, like a water?"
YD:  "No.  Nothing sounds good.  It just hurts."
ME:  "Can you make it into the Gap?  Mommy will NOT SHOP.  I am only returning these pants.  Can you do it?"
YD:  "Let's go before they close."
Atta girl!


We go in, and I go to the young clerk.  I say to her, "I want to return these khakis, and then I want to use this coupon to get my 30% off adjustment on the balance."  I know this is what I said.  She took the khakis, returned them, and then rang them up again at 30% off and handed them back to me.  "There, you saved $6!"  Thanks for playing, but that's not what I said.  This turned into 5 minutes of me explaining what I wanted.  The manager had to come over.  She said, "Who told you to come back?" and I said, "I don't know who it was.  It was the guy who had a Gap nametag and was on that side of the counter."  The woman smiled at me in pity and said, "Well next time, just ask if we have an extra coupon, because he could've just rung it up for you with the discount the first time."


Oh.  Thanks.  Because I left Nebraska early just so I could drive four hours to make it here on time with my carsick kid.  No worries.  NEXT TIME I will know what to do.  And I will start doing that in every store I visit.  We finally got the transaction done, and YD and I walked out of the door into the parking lot, where she stopped in her tracks and power vomited all over the Gap Outlet parking lot.


YD looked up at me, her eyes bugged out a bit, vomit in her hair, on her legs, on her shoes, on my shoes, and she said, "I thought that lady would NEVER stop talking."


And that, my friends, is my true Gap Reward.  Because the mom who drags her carsick child into the Gap to save an extra $25 in the middle of a long car trip perhaps deserves to be vomited on.  So sorry YD, and from now on, I will believe every stomach ache is a real one.