A few months ago, someone from my mothers’ club posted a message on the bulletin board about a local teenager who was about to give birth to a baby:  did any of us have any used baby gear we would be willing to donate to her?  I was moved by this, because my recent parenting experience has given me new-found respect and admiration for single parents, young parents, parents who are not independently wealthy—pretty much any people who aren’t tackling parenthood with the resources of a Trump.  So I e-mailed back saying that all my baby gear was currently in use, but I’d be happy to buy something off the girl’s baby registry, if the poster was willing to share that information. The woman wrote back with the girl’s name —we’ll call her Susan Jones—and asked me to keep it confidential. 

The girl was registered at Babies “R” Us, like 90% of the mothers on the planet.  I hate Babies “R” Us on principle, and it’s not only because of the stupid backwards “R.”  It’s also because of the objective pronoun used incorrectly after the linking verb.  It ought to be Babies “R” We!  Or even Babies “R” Wee, for maximum cutesiness!  But I swallowed my distaste, as I always do (this being the most convenient place to buy baby stuff on-line).  I logged in to their web site and searched the baby registry for Susan Jones’s name.  I found it and chose something suitable, which was automatically shipped directly to the mother-to-be at the stored address. 

Weeks later, on Black Friday, I was moved by the crowd-stampeding, shopper-shooting holiday spirit to start my Christmas shopping . . . online. I logged on to Babies “R” Us and spent an hour picking out toys for Minor. A week or two later I got an e-mail address with the subject line, “Order #1234567 has shipped.”  This morning, I realized that I had still not received the package and went searching for the e-mail to see if I could get enough information to track it.

This time, I opened up the e-mail and gasped when I saw, “Order #1234567 has shipped to Susan Jones, 123 Main Street….”

I sent Minor’s Christmas presents to the teenager!

How could this have happened?  When you check out from Babies “R” Us they usually ask you to confirm the shipping address.  I would have needed to go of my way to ship the gifts to a gift registry recipient. Right?

Not according to Babies “R” Us. “When you ship something to a new address,” the customer service rep told me, “the software automatically updates the default address to the most recent one.”

“Why on earth would you assume that I would want my address updated to the place where I sent a one-time gift?”

He didn’t know.

So. . . I can’t very well call up a young mother who was supposed to be the anonymous recipient of donations and demand the return of nine out of ten packages that I sent her.  Luckily, Minor is fairly close in age to her baby, and the toys are reasonably appropriate, or will be in a few months. Also, luckily, the dollar amount was pretty low, as I try to buy the kids simple analog toys, which tend to be cheaper.

It’s the setback that’s killing me.  I’ve done next to nothing for Christmas, but as the days have ticked by I’ve taken comfort in saying to myself, “At least I’ve got all of Minor’s shopping done.”  Now I don’t even have that. My level of preparation is actually negative; I have to REDO shopping. 

On the other hand. . . he hasn’t really been THAT good this year.