Not long ago, prior to play dates and potty-training, I looked forward to some Me Time at the stores. The saleslady knew my first name and we often acted like long lost friends. On days when skinny jeans were not feeling so skinny, she had the perfect Prada ballet flats for me. This is the first part of my confession: I have not seen my saleslady in months. As a matter of fact, I feel like I'm cheating on her. Now my shopping is done online.