As I have mentioned in previous columns, I look forward to bathing-suit shopping with my daughters almost as much as major dental surgery without anesthesia. But that’s exactly where I found myself recently when my youngest daughter informed me that we were a few days away from an upcoming high school end-of-year swim party, and if she didn’t get a new swimsuit, she might have to wear a modified Hefty bag (which didn’t sound all that bad to me).

Needless to say, I soon found myself in Target. Yes, this was before the Satanist clothing designer-Pride display debacle officially “hit the fan.” I do think I saw a Pride display out of the corner of my eye, but I could have seen President Joe Biden and Vladimir Putin mud wrestling – in the nude – and not been distracted. I was on a mission to find a modest bathing suit for my daughter – and then find the exit as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, I didn’t consider the fact that a dad doesn’t just take his daughters into a big box store like Target and purchase only one item. To complicate matters, I also brought my middle daughter, who is home from college for the summer, for moral support.

I spent the first part of this expedition leaning against a display of men’s briefs while my daughters argued in the dressing room about which swimsuits I would reject for revealing too much elbow. In fact, they were in there for so long that I could have crocheted them an appropriate 1800s-style bathing gown myself.

Instead, I began pondering the potential loss of another big box store since Bed Bath & Beyond recently filed for bankruptcy. I really enjoyed shopping at Bed Bath & Beyond. It was one of the few places where I could choose from a wide selection of toilet brushes, spatulas and Mother’s Day cards – sometimes all at once. Besides, the whole store smelled kind of like my wife’s shower soap, which I may or may not use when I get the urge to feel refreshed and moisturized.

Once the girls came out and assured me that their swimsuit choices would be suitable for a Sunday night hymn sing at church, I tried to head to the checkout line – but they redirected me first to the pool toy section, then to the grocery section, and then to the toiletries and cosmetics.

Here is a list of our purchases (Mind you, we went in for one dad-approved bathing suit.):

Two swimsuits (including one bikini that I told my youngest daughter I would be wearing before she does)

Two jumbo inflatable pool floats (that someone will puncture within the week)

A pack of strawberry lemonade green bubble tea (I’m still not exactly sure what that is.)

Two enormous bags of gourmet popcorn with Himalayan salt (I didn’t think it tasted Himalayan at all.)

A sparkly-purple ergonomic woman’s razor (I didn’t ask questions.)

A large jar of birthday-cake shea sugar body scrub (Huh?)

Some “blush fantasy” tinted lip balm (Whatever happened to Chapstick?)

A giant container of Extra-Strength TUMS (for me)

Once I recovered from the shock over the total on my receipt, I resolved to be grateful for the time spent with my daughters. I also promised myself that the next time someone asks me for a new swimsuit, I’m heading to Walmart for some Hefty bags.

Reach Graves at susanjase@sbcglobal.net. Opinions expressed in this column are those of the writer only and do not necessarily represent those of the newspaper.