Just like last year, and the year before that, and the 20 years before that, due to mama be lazy and looooves her pajamas, we're not part of the Black Friday money saving madness. Throw in my husband's motto that he wears on his Tshirt, *spending to save is still spending* and you'll find all of us at home the day after Thanksgiving. I might go out for strawberries later for French toast, we'll see.
Crazy, I know, because who wouldn't want a flat screen TV for every single room in the house? And they're BOGO too??
Because of me staying home the day after Thanksgiving in my well worn mismatched pajamas, sipping on Your Store Brand Here coffee by the steamy mugful, my Value Deal Bing Crosby CD crooning in the background, I'm missing out on a lot, I know:
Like getting my face pepper sprayed for touching someone else's coveted doorbuster Xbox.
Or being trampled underneath while queued up customers duck underneath a lifting store gate.
I could be carried away in a sea of humanity over $2.00 waffle irons.
You could be watching television coverage of me climbing across vats of sweet potatoes to get that video game.
And before you smugly think, Oh, that's only if you go to places like Walmart and Best Buy, there's mosh pits with the hipster crowds at Urban Outfitters, where theft detector devices get trampled down in the insane store opening dash.
Again, this shopping season, we'll be home. Mostly, because shopping season is year round for me and basement shopping over here is like coming upon a really good yard sale somewhere. It's not that we reject the spirit of greed and consumerism, as much as we say No Thank You to the line pushing, and trampling. All that invasion of personal space with strangers, the uncomfortable pressing in on me. Eeek.
Time away from being home and cozy, with an extra day in the weekend -- I don't want to spend that day with others.
Selfish, I know. We just like to be home.
Home, watching on television what goes on in the stores today. You should see the wide-eyed terror in my kids' eyes as they see it all. "Mom? Did that lady just disappear into that crate of long underwear? Two for Ten Dollars?," they ask while wiping away melted butter and warm syrup from their chins.
Yes. She did, honey. And she likes it so much she'll be back again next year.
Repeat after me. Pajamaed legs up on coffee table. Blow across hot coffee. Take steamy sip. Aaaaaah.
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