Wednesday's Words: December 5th, 2007

Today is December 5th, which means it’s only 20 days until Christmas. But more, it means that pretty soon, like it, or not, I have to go Christmas shopping.

I hate shopping. Seriously. I mean, the stores wouldn’t be so bad if there weren’t so many people in them. Sounds just like the doesn’t-like-to-share-the-pool thing, doesn’t it? I know. Trust me, my family members have all at one time or another mentioned to me that there are times when I should wear a sign that says, “does not play well with others”. In my defense, I appeal to the tenets of common sense.

If everyone would behave with a large dose of common sense, then this “magical time of year” would proceed with much more organization, peace, and joy. In fact, it would seem well…magical. The first rule: everyone should go shopping with a list. Yes, a list. A list of names, and beside each name, should be listed the gift that is to be purchased for the owner of that name. Simple idea, isn’t it? I won’t say anything about having the list written in the same order as the departments in the store will be encountered. I do, but that’s just a tad too anal for most people.

When I brave the aisles of the stores in my area, snippets of conversations find their way to my disbelieving ears. “What do you think we should get Aunt Mary? How about a lavender bath and shower set?” “Aunt Mary doesn’t like lavender.” “Oh. Well, what does she like?”

That, to my mind, is a question to be asked before setting foot in the store.

The first place I go when I get to the store is the toy department, because I’m blessed with 8 grandchildren, and most of them are still of the toy-loving age. And when I get to the toy department—usually on a week night after 7 in the evening—what do I find but children there! What is that all about, anyway? Who brings children Christmas shopping to the toy department? And, when in the name of all that’s holy did it become stylish to let the little darlings have the run of the place?

Have you ever said, “excuse me, please?” and tried to get past one of these little angels as they’re examining the merchandise? More often than not you get a look that could chill the blood of the most seasoned marine.

The other departments in the store aren’t any better. Each area is busy, over populated by shoppers, under populated by staff. The most popular item, especially in the electronics department, is something called ‘out of stock’. And then, before you know it, you’re in the thick of the action. In a feeding frenzy that would put piranha to shame, gift hunters toss aside garments in the sweater bin that aren’t “it” while furiously digging for one that is; they totally ravage the orderly arrangement of CDs on the display stands so that nothing remains where it should be. They spray fragrance here, there, on me, and sniff after the falling mist as if trying to catch the scent of their next meal. They pick through boxes of brooches and necklaces, holding each up, looking at it, before throwing it down and reaching for the next. They carefully examine the package containing a moustache trimmer, reading every word, then asking no one in particular, “does this come with batteries or do I have to buy them separately?”

You can give the department store a miss, and head to the boutiques in the mall. But there you’re likely to pay more, and they’re so specialized, you end up going into fifteen different shops in search of fifteen different gifts for fifteen different people, and either come out with some, none, or a headache.

I’ve done well in the last few years, either finding my treasures well before the heat of the season, or securing them quickly during just a couple of forays into the insanity known as ‘midnight madness’. I am hoping that this year will be no different. I am going to call upon the great spirit of the season to grant me peace and goodwill toward the dazed and confused who block the aisles with their shopping carts as they ooh and ahh over froufrous or gossip and giggle with long unseen friends. I’m going to go in, get what I need, and get out, hopefully without taking any casualties.

If you think I’m bad, you should hear my husband’s take on the logistics of Christmas shopping. He has a unique approach, and I swear one day I’m going to adopt it.

He’s a fan of the Dollar Store. We go there at least once every other month, because you can get darn near anything there, and only pay a dollar for it.

Yup, you guessed it: Twenty relatives, twenty dollars, twenty gifts.

What could be simpler than that?

 

Love,

Morgan