I Hate Christmas Shopping

I told myself I'd start in June this year. I tell myself that same thing every year. Do I start in June? Or even September?

No. I do not.

Last year was so stressful because we were listing like crazy on eBay and I spent every second of what was available of my free time Christmas shopping. I hate shopping. I hate people.

I told Shawn that this year would not be stressful! It takes the fun out of Christmas in the same way that having a relative in jail takes the fun out of watching Cops. I told Shawn that I would enjoy Christmas this year, no matter who was fighting, not speaking, or hated me. Last year I spent all of Christmas at our crappy mall and I refuse to do that this year.

Out running a couple errands yesterday, I said we needed to get the youngest of our nieces a gift while we were at Wal-Mart. You would think by the amount of people in Wal-Mart, that something was being given away. If you look at Wal-Mart's prices, you'd know that to be a complete and total lie. Save money, Live better! Or whatever....

After twenty minuets of grabbing what I needed and finally locating Shawn in the toy section, Indiana-Jones-Style (I lost my map) I was beginning to freak out a little. It happens a lot during the Christmas shopping season. And Saturdays in a crowded store. And Wednesdays in a grocery store with lines that exceed the Fire Marshall's warnings.

I begin to feel extremely claustrophobic. My head pounds and I feel like I cannot breathe because the thousands of Wal-Mart patrons are sucking up all the air with the stench of BO. I trip over yet another small child, a woman who is walking in front of me stops suddenly and whips her cart around, almost driving it into my gut.

I want to hit someone in the face. I don't care who and I don't know why, but I know it would make me feel a lot better about my situation. MOVE! MOVE! I do not wish to die in the local Wal-Mart! Must you stand HERE? In the middle of EVERYTHING and everyone's way? You're not shopping, you're just standing here in the MIDDLE of all traffic, in the middle of all of us who come in for a couple items and look forward to the rest of our happy little lives!

Life is short, you know? I doubt any of us want to be on our death bed reminiscing that we racked up 379 hours total at the local Wal-Mart.

....Well, maybe that woman over there who's got nothing better to do because she has no job, no kids, no meals to prepare since her personal chef takes care of that. She could step aside two inches so I could get through, though.

She doesn't.

So we hit the baby aisle and had previously decided to get a stuffed animal of some sort since everything from China contains lead paint and date rape drugs. What could be harmful about a stuffed animal? We soon discover that Wal-Mart has done away with the half-aisle-o-stuffed-animals.

I hate Wal-Mart.

I grab a bendable Mickey Mouse, similar to the one pictured above for around ten bucks. It says 12+. I look at Shawn. "She'll be a year old in January. It's 10 bucks."

"Cool. Get it," he says.
Look, an eleven month old child is not going to remember or even know how much thought we put into our gift. Especially when she had 37 aunts, uncles, and grandparents giving her gifts at the same time.

I decided I wasn't going to squander my time putting as much thought as possible into each gift this year. The kids get video games that we aren't able to sell off on eBay. Done. I flipped through mailer fliers and catalogues until I found neat stuff for Mom and Dad. I ordered those items cheaper on eBay. Done. Gift cards for the work Christmas parties. Done and done.

The youngest of nieces gets a $10 Mickey Mouse that cost 17 cents to make. Done. The kids don't oooh and ahhhh over things anything. They toss the previously unwrapped item to the side and ask, "What's next?"

THAT is why I refuse to put much thought into gifts this year. 90% of what I have bought already has come off of eBay. I can sit here comfortably in my PJs (sweatpants, t-shirt, two pairs of socks and one of Shawn's sweatshirts--classy!) and shop to my little heart's content, while at the same time comparing prices with ease and avoiding the stench of BO and elbows and traffic.

I really just do not understand why anyone with a credit card and an internet connection would even bother with shopping. "But you don't get to hold it and touch and see it in real life!"

What a crock. I know what a DVD case feels like. I know what new plastic smells like. And I can see it for myself when it comes in the mail!

Oh, and don't go chewing on the DVD case. It might have that Chinese date rape drug in it.