Welcome to Christmas, 2008

I've always wished to do certain things in my life... like hang-gliding, basking in the ocean, getting on stage and singing. Some things I've actually accomplished with my life, other things -- nah. The other day, I got the chance to participate in an activity that I never planned on -- nor ever plan on taking part in again -- Black Friday.

We have some very dear friends who travel hours on end to visit us for the Thanksgiving holiday. I proceed to make home-made ice cream, pumpkin and apple pies -- the works. And every year they have awakened early the next day to venture out into the various venues to find -- the BIG bargains.

I have never been all that interested in facing scores of people just to try to obtain that one item for a few bucks less than retail. However, my hard-to-buy-for teenage son noticed an ad in the paper and said, "Hey, Mom -- you know how I said I only wanted money? Well, if I had the money, I'd buy this:" it was one of those rocking seats that allow you to hook up with a sound system. It was being offered at a savings of fifty dollars. I decided to go.

My husband knows I'm a night-owl; I HATE rising super early. He offered to go to the store to pick up this item; I was planning on picking up some hamburger, and possibly a gift for him, so I said that I'd go. So, I set the clock for 4:15 am, and went to bed.

In my Pollyanna-ish frame of mind that I sometimes possess, I imagined that I would arrive at 5:00, breeze through the store, get the present for my son, along with the hamburger, milk, and maybe a present for my hubby, and be out of there by 5:30. Au contraire!

A wise woman would have turned tail and run. I should have known when I saw the loaded parking lot. I never knew so many people lived in our town! The place was packed; it reminded me of those old science movies from school with those red blood cells travelling through the arteries -- only they all moved quicker than those in this store.

It took me ten minutes to move ten feet towards the electronics -- my initial destination. Then I heard that there were items in the produce section of the store. I asked a worker where the chairs could be found -- yep, you guessed it -- in the produce section. It took me about five minutes to back up to hit the main aisle. Scads of people were milling around, picking up this item and that, shoving them into already over-flowing shopping carts. I almost got caught up in the frenzy, myself, and thought, "Oh, I've GOT to go over there to see what they're all looking at!" Then, sanity was restored to my mind as I remembered that I was only in the store for a few items.

Then, I saw it -- the prize that I was going to bestow upon my son for Christmas. I made my way past a woman who had three of those chairs shoved into her shopping cart. I stopped at the frozen foods, and watched people pick up items that they otherwise would not even give a second glance, but because they had "WHILE SUPPLIES LAST" splashed in front of them, they got snatched up like precious treasures. As long as I stayed to the outside perimeter of the store, I could travel rather quickly. When I finally entered back into the fray to try to find the proper line in which to pay for my few items, one person bashed their cart into me without a simple, "Excuse me." However, most people were friendly enough, and some nice conversations were struck up with a few.

I noticed an item on sale that my younger boy mentioned, and encountered a person who liked the price, but had no idea what the item was. It was an airplane and a small, remote-controlled helicopter pack. She looked as though she were buying all things relating to grandchildren; she asked me while holding the gift pack, "What do you think this does?"

As I picked up one, myself, I looked at the outside box, where it said, "Fly indoors". I pointed to that, and said to the lady, "Well, dear, I think this is the way that children can destroy the items in your house that they cannot otherwise reach."

She looked at the box, said, "Hmmm," and gingerly put the box back on the display.

I made it back home -- finally -- sometime around 6:45 (after I made a stop to Sears -- didn't know what to get him there, either), changed back into my night clothes and said, "I will NEVER do that, again!"

"I warned you," my husband replied, "If it were me, I would have turned around and walked out of the store."

"And that's why I went, instead," I retorted, "because I wouldn't give up so easy when it comes to something like this for the children."

No sooner did I get to finally re-shut my eyes, my teenager came into the room, and said, "Uh, Mom, are you going to the store? Oh, never mind." He was mumbling about how he should have set the alarm and awakened me, himself. I just smiled.

Until Saturday. My son, daughter and I went into the store, and saw the same item that I went through the "shadow of the valley of death" to buy. There, taped onto one of the boxes, was a tag: "Special price -- $30.00."

My son just smiled.