Like millions of Americans looking to fill the void left from an overly hyped up yet unfulfilling holiday, I went shopping on Black Friday.
My experience was relatively tame; I didn’t stand in line for hours in the blistering wind for a TV or frantically elbow my way through an angry mob of rabid women who would knife their grandma for a Furby. No, I was merely recreationally Christmas shopping for sport and a little girl time sans kids.
We started at 9pm Thursday night and wrapped up around dinnertime on Friday stopping only to sleep a few hours, throw back an omelet and periodically call to increase the limit on our credit cards. For the most part, my fellow shoppers were remarkably civilized. The only thing that forced me into a double take was a woman shopping with two little kids at 1am. Not that I was judging her for keeping them up late; I was actually impressed with her strategy of setting them up for sleeping in. My kids were up bright and early at 6am with the power of 8 hours of sleep propelling their feet up and down on my bed. I was actually just amazed at how well behaved her kids were in the toy aisle.
Friday night as I was unpacking my bags, feeling accomplished as I nuzzled up with my super saver deals and whispered sweet nothings into their ear, I looked around noticed something peculiar. I had done a very good job of shopping for myself, and a less than very good job of shopping for gifts for other people.
Now, in all fairness there was one more gift but the person reads my blog and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Even though that person is my husband and I’m sure he’s already sniffed out my “hiding spot”. And by “hiding spot” I mean it’s leaning up against his side of the bed. He is surprisingly oblivious.
All I can say is that I plead insanity. It’s been so long since I’ve been shopping without kids at a place that also does not sell butt ointment that I think I just blacked out for a while and came to with bags and bags of fabulousity.
So now I at least have pretty things in my closet to look at as I reach past them for the same disgusting XXXL hoodie that I will most likely continue to wear every day.