Mantras for the Eight-Year-Old Boy Who Is About to Walk into Target

Today is a precious gift. Even if I do not walk out of this Target with a single, solitary Minecraft-themed item.

I am a confident and unique being who can pick up a Tech Deck mini skateboard, stare directly at the label ULTRA RARE, and feel absolutely no urge to beg or whine.

I admit that I am powerless against the words “collect them all” and will seek the support of my sponsor, Mom, when needed.

I accept that a BOGO deal on Nerf Dart Blasters is but an illusion of self-actualization.

I will choose to be happy. I recognize that I have been made to feel that I NEED that five-pack of Power Rangers Beast Morphers underwear, but I DO NOT NEED Power Rangers Beast Morphers underwear to be happy.

I believe in myself and my ability to pick out a remote-controlled Hot Wheels car for Jaxson’s birthday party without commentary on the subject of I, Too, Want One, because it is, in fact, NOT MY birthday.

I will trust my body to NOT DIE if I don’t get that remote-controlled Hot Wheels car, despite the overwhelming sensation that I might physically keel over dead.

I am enough. And one time hearing “No, we’re not getting that crap” will be enough. I can do this because I am enough and it is still not my birthday.

I can do hard things, like choosing the juice that just tastes like fruit and not whatever Pokémon Flavor tastes like.

I am a serene embodiment of willpower and contentment, and I WILL WALK BY that freezer case of pizza rolls, even though the package features the face of a third-grade YouTuber.

I am proud of who I am. And nobody is interested in hearing that I would be even more proud if “Who I Am” was “A Boy Who Owns a Bakugan Battle Arena.”

I will ride the wave of jealousy that Kayden’s sister has one of those light-up soccer balls and I do not, and I will ride that wave until it retreats. I will feel the wave come in. I will feel the wave go out. Stupid Kayden’s sister.

I know that this New and Improved Squishy Razzberree Candy Slingshot has been placed at my eye level in checkout line number three to test me. And I will prevail. I will PREVAIL even if it means putting a pair of NON–POWER RANGERS underwear directly over my eyes just to make it through this GODFORSAKEN GAUNTLET OF TEMPTATION.

I am filled with gratitude for this day that I have been given, and I am NOT planning to unleash a TORRENT OF EAR-SPLITTING BEGGING and WHINING as soon as I can convince NANA to take me BACK to this TARGET ON THE WAY HOME FROM BASEBALL, because Nana does not care that it is NOT MY BIRTHDAY and wants me to actually BE HAPPY.