I finished my Christmas shopping yesterday (sorta). The twins and I went out during the day for a few things, then after hubby came home, I went out on a Santa mission. I finished not just the kids, but everyone else we are giving to by Christmas. Whew! Let me tell ya, there are many crazy folks like me, and folks nuttier than I am out on Dec 19…
- At Michael’s (a craft store, btw), a large lady with no bra and torpedo boobs that faced due southwest and southeast, argued with the cashier about having to provide proper identification in order to return two spools of wide gold ribbon for cash. I couldn’t stop looking at her breasts. It was embarrassing, and it reminded me to never skip wearing a bra. Even to go get the mail.
- Meanwhile, my daughters were touching everything in sight. Craft stores are like nirvana for my little creative monkeys. They wanted EVERYTHING. If I wasn’t so fixated on Torpedo Boobs and her argument with the cashier, maybe I would’ve noted specifically what they wanted so that I could go back later. Oh well.
- In the Lalaloopsy aisle of Toys R Us, a frantic daddy phoned his child and said, “Well, honey, what if Santa can’t find the doll with the furry stuff that you wanted? What other one would you want…” Um. I… Um… *sigh*
- Speaking of dads in Toys R Us… I don’t know if I’m just being a judgy-judgerson or jumping to conclusions, but it seems to me that Divorced Dads are really easy to spot. They are usually wandering aimlessly in their leather bomber jackets and dark washed denim, picking up toys at random, with no list or idea what their kids have been asking for, and price checking. One dad picked up a Butterscotch Pony (which my kids asked for, but there’s no way, Peeps). I knew they were pretty pricey, and so I watched as Allegedly Divorced Dad scanned the price checker and made a “Oh hell to the no” face. I couldn’t help but smirk. They are about $120. I’d have to get two, so… yeah. No. But, see I’m a mom, and I researched this shit.
- The shelf stocking staff at Walmart either a.) can’t keep up with crazy Walmart consumers, b.) quit yesterday, or c.) are seriously slackers. Nothing was in a “section”. I walked in, and walked right back out. I don’t have time for this. Although, I could’ve people watched there for hours if it wasn’t Christmas Crunch Time.
- For some reason, all toy stores or toy departments I ventured into contained various and sundry dolls and furniture and other large bulky accessories, but no m-er effin’ CLOTHES for dolls! I could’ve sworn there were tons of selections available a few mere weeks ago. See, this is what my procrastination gets me. Would it be okay if Santa gave my daughters gift cards to buy party dresses and pajamas for their Cabbage Patch Dolls? Gah.
- “You can have wine when you get home, you can have wine when you get home, you can have wine when you get home…” My mantra as my back ached, my feet hurt, my hands cramped from carrying 4 shopping bags through White Marsh Mall at 9:45 pm.
Ah, the holidays… Comfort and joy, my ass.