Home » Wiper Blades & The GD Confirmation Class: Just Another Walk in the Park

Wiper Blades & The GD Confirmation Class: Just Another Walk in the Park

At some point several weeks ago, I realized my windshield wipers were shot.  One of them had the rubbery stuff (technical term) hanging off of it.


But not annoying enough for me to take the initiative to remedy it.

So I mentioned it to Chris.

And then we both promptly forgot about it.

But then Monday was all kinds of rainy and blah around here and suddenly those wipers were REALLY annoying because I was very hesitant to take the kid anywhere in the car and risk being stuck in a downpour with dysfunctional windshield wipers.


Chris offered to pick a pair up on the way home from work that evening but I declined hating for him to make a stop.

“Let’s just see how things go.” I mentioned.  “Maybe we can all run that errand together some evening this week since it’s supposed to be rainy.  It will give us something to do.”

Except we ended up finding plenty of other stuff to do.

But as Wednesday rolled around, the forecast was looking wetter and wetter for the rest of the week.

And I knew I’d need my car to get us somewhere for our daily amusement.

Wednesday morning I mentioned to Chris Mac and I were going to check out the new Target that opened a few blocks from the house.  And he sent back a text:

“Target may have your wiper blades.  One would be RainX Model RX3022(21 inch).  The other is RainX Model RX30219 (19 inch).”

Now this made me a little nervous.  I’ve had bad experiences attempting to purchase replacement parts for the cars before.  (I was particularly damaged by searching for a little bulb for the Passat’s headlight a few years ago.)

However, this was my car.   And the text was basically idiot-proof so. . .”Mac,” I said while we were eating breakfast, “We need to add wiper blades to our Target list.”

“LIIIIIIISSSSSTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

We headed to Target.  I had a decent sized list but the only “must get” was really the wiper blades.  So as we entered the shiny brand new Target (glorious!!) I headed straight towards the back of the store searching for the automotive stuff.  I figured this way, if Mac got antsy, at least I’d have the most important items.

I was standing in a main aisle looking at the signs suspended from the ceiling searching for “automotive.”

“Can I help you?” asked a handsome 20-something male sales associate.

“Actually, Yes.  I am looking for the automotive section.”

“Two aisles away.  You’re almost there.” He laughed.

I made a left and another quick left with the cart and found myself staring at what else but WIPER BLADES!

Their selection looked pretty limited.  And my car is kinda’ OLD.  So I braced myself for disappointment and started squinting at the packaging.

The only brand they appeared to carry was Rain X.

That’s a good start.

“Get out. Get out. GET OUT!” Mac said in an escalating tone.

“Not yet Sweetie.  Remember?  This is our MUST get from the LIST!” I laughed waving the actual paper list in front of his face.

He wasn’t amused.

“You’re doin’ great, Mac.  It won’t be much longer.”

Before he had time to protest further, another young, energetic male associate sidled up to me.  “Do you need some help?”

“Maybe?  I’m looking for replacement blades and this is the right brand but I can’t find the model numbers on any of this packaging.”

“No problem,” he said flashing Mac a smile too.  “He’s cute.”

“Say thanks, Mac,” I said, stealthily pulling out my phone and cuing up Chris’ text message.

“My husband says this is what I need,” I said showing the associate the phone hoping Mac wouldn’t catch on and immediately demand the phone.

“Wow.  He even gave you the sizes.  That’s great!” the kid said.

And before I could even slide the phone back into my pocket he gave me two blades one marked 19 inch and one marked 21 inch.

“These are hands down the best blades.”

“And they’ll work on my car?” I asked quickly scanning the price.

$20 bucks a pop?!  For basically a squeegee?  OUCH.


“Thanks.” I said a little in awe of how fast and painless that was.

A little too painless.

I took Mac to check out the toy aisles and then we added a few more items from our list (and not from our list).  But as much as I was enjoying my shopping experience, I kept sneaking looks at the wiper blades.  . .

Something seemed wrong.

I couldn’t find a model number anywhere on the package.  How did that kid KNOW they were going to work on my car?  How?!

I bought the blades anyway figuring I’d likely have to return them but hey, it was an excuse to go back to that glorious new Target.  I left them in the car when we got home so Chris could install them that evening.

That evening I packed Mac up for the Park.

Chris headed to my car – with my set of keys.  He told us to go ahead to the Park and he’d meet us when he was done.

Mac wanted to go to the playground and we were there for a while.  I kept checking my phone but I didn’t have any texts from Chris.  What’s taking so long?  It’s almost dark.

And then the text message:

“I should have sent you a text not to get the specific type of wiper u bought.  You can slide these too far forward and the clip breaks. . .which I’ve done.  I’m just going to drive your car to AutoZone and take care of it so it’s done.”

Ugh.  I knew it!  I KNEW those things were WRONG!  

I felt terrible.  AutoZone isn’t that far away but with travel time, I knew it was going to take him nearly another hour.  Plus, those Target blades were nearly $40 and they were broken and we couldn’t even return them.

What a waste!  I KNEW I couldn’t be trusted with this sort of thing.

I felt terrible.

It was getting cold and dark so I convinced Mac we should pack it up and head towards home for dinner.

But then it occurred to me:  WE COULDN’T GET HOME.  Chris had my keys.

No worries.  You could just take Mac to the grocery store or to Canton Square for a little treat or something.

EXCEPT, Because I was planning for Chris to meet us in the Park, I didn’t have my WALLET either.

“Fudgeity, Fudgeity, Fudge.” I mumbled under my breath.

FUUUUUDDDDGGGEEEEE!!!!  Mac screamed from the stroller laughing.

It was dark, cold, and I HAD TO PEE.

I glanced back at the Spot A Pot up on the hill by the Lake.  There was no way I was entering that disgusting mother in the dark.

Do not text Chris.  Figure this out, Deni.  You’ve caused him enough trouble for one evening.

The grocery was still an option.  Yet, at over six blocks away, I was hesitant.  It was going to be an even colder walk home and Mac and I had only light weight sweatshirts.

As I was mulling my next move, we were walking past the soccer fields where several children’s soccer teams were finishing up games and practice.

Coming at me from the left was a lady dragging a duffle bag, a lawn chair, a backpack, a water cooler, and what appeared to be a four year old girl outfitted in the cutest bright pink cleats I’ve ever seen.  (Why didn’t they make those when I played field hockey?!)

Somehow she was managing to drag all that gear AND still be on her cell phone.

“Andrew’s STILL there?  What do you mean he’s still there?!”


“Gawd!  He has to get ready NOW!  He has to go!  Hurry.  Damnit!  Damnit to hell!”


“He has to hurry because he’s going to be late for his GAWD DAMNED CONFIRMATION CLASS!  IT STARTS IN 15 MINUTES.  I TOLD YOU DAMNIT!”

And that’s when I quickly crossed my legs to make sure I didn’t pee my pants and started laughing hysterically.

Poor thing.