My Christmas spirit comes and goes. Yesterday it "went" several times, but was restored. I had a few errands to run in town yesterday and was going to do some "un-rushed" shopping. The temperature here in OK did not get above 30, but that did not bother me. I just bundled up – it reminded me of my days in NM. In fact, I kind of like the cool air on my face when the rest of me is warm. There was a moment in a public restroom when I had to peel off all my warm layers, and then put them right back on, which was a hassle, but it was another reminder of my skiing days in NM. At least I was not wearing stretchy ski pants, which in a small restroom stall can bedevil a contortionist.
My first errand was to drop off the last of my belated Christmas cards at the post office. I just wanted to drive through and poke my mail in the box. I had followed a slow moving truck for several blocks, but that was not a problem. The problem came when we got to the front of the post office. The Duncan post office was busier than usual and most of the parking spots were full. But people are constantly coming and going, so it is not usually a problem. Most people who cannot find a parking spot, just swing around (the street is very wide and accommodating) and park on the opposite side of the street. The person in the truck just came to a complete stop in the middle of the street to wait on a parking spot. I hate when people do this in a parking lot much less in the middle of the street. There was plenty of parking spots – just not directly in front of the PO. Gee, you would think taking a few extra steps would be a hardship, and if it is that difficult, get a handicapped sticker. The truck in front of me sat there making it impossible to go around, but waiting on the "perfect" parking spot. Gee, could they not circle the block. Cars were lining up behind me, but then they started turning off and going another way or parking further away from the front door of the PO. I just wanted to drive around to the far side of the PO and drop my one letter off, but the "Oblivian" in front of me made me a bit crazed.
I got over my mad fairly quickly by going to the office where my son works. The GGs were about to make an appearance there – so I waited on them. GBN1 came sneaking in to surprise her daddy, but she was surprised when she rounded the corner and saw me. She ran and jumped catching me around the waist with her arms and wrapping her legs around my legs. She just hung there hugging me. Ahhh, Christmas spirit restored!
After visiting with the GGs for a while, I met Toby and Jesse for lunch – very pleasant. Then I went to Wal-Mart. I know: what was I thinking? You are probably already shaking your head. It really wasn’t so bad. There were more people in Wal-Mart than actually live in Duncan. Where do these people come from? I ran into so many people whom I knew, it was impossible to get my shopping done quickly. I laughed when one friend asked me if I had to park at the library and walk to Wal-Mart. Truthfully, the people and the parking did not bother me. I was ready and willing to deal with the hassle. But there seems to be something at Wal-Mart that makes a person lose their mind. The minute you walk through the doors, your mind goes blank. You wonder around the store forgetting your purpose. You have to cross the store several times because they put some baking things on the grocery side of the store, but not throw-away pie plates. You must go to the kitchen aisle on the other side of the store for that. I lost track of time. Even my list did not make sense anymore. I lost my purpose. I bought a Diet Pepsi on my way out hoping that I would be restored to normalcy. I did have this thought as I drove out of the parking lot: why do we need to torture detainees at Guantanamo? We should just line up the detainees and run them through the front doors at a Wal-Mart. Their minds would be erased. They would lose their purpose. All would be well. Either that or they would go home and blow themselves up.
When I got home, Jesse had bought cheap tie-dye kits for us to tie-dye socks for silly Christmas presents for the cousins. The kits came with dye, rubber bands, and gloves. The gloves were cheap and useless. Our fingers are now dyed making it look like we have recently been fingerprinted. We made some ugly socks, and had a great time. It may be our new Christmas tradition.
Jesse Story: Jesse said, "I’m going to make origami socks." She pronounced it more like "aragami." I thought, "Hmm, how is she going to make her designs look like folded animals?" She began making intricate, colorful, diamond shapes on the socks. It made me laugh – she meant "argyle" socks.
11 comments:
You have to cross the store several times because they put some baking things on the grocery side of the store, but not throw-away pie plates.
Another pet peeve of mine. I think the person or persons who lay out Wal-Marts (i.e., which products go where) are closet sadists. Or maybe they just wanna make sure we all get our exercise, I dunno. But EVERY danged time I go to Wal-Mart my list has stuff on opposite ends of the store. Example: OTC drugs and personal care products are 180 out from the groceries...
Origami socks! LOL!
Just another reason I don't do shopping at wal-mart or any other store, especially this time of year. Shelley and I made a decision several years ago that has worked out great for me.
I used to go out and buy her Christmas every year and every year she would end up taking it back. So about 10 years ago, when she was talking about taking what I had bought her back, I made the suggestion that from now on, she go out and purchase her on gift and put it under the tree from me. It has worked out great because she gets exactly what she wants and I don't have to go shopping!! It's a win win situation. Now I would certainly go out and buy for her if she said that she didn't want to anymore, but I'm sure she would end up taking it back!
Ya'll have a very Merry Christmas and please pass on to the family our Christmas wishes as well!
Buck, I think there is some sort of "mind eraser" as you walk through the doors at Wal-Mart or maybe it is just some sort of evil spirit of delusion.
Dale, I would rather not get a gift as to get one that I bought for myself, but that is just me. It is the thought behind the gift that counts.
Believe it or not, it didn't get above 30 here in MS yesterday either. I opened the door yesterday morning and Rylea went out, but came straight back in. Katie just looked at me like I was crazy!
You're Wal-mart stories made me laugh. I needed that because I'm fixin to have to go there myself. I must brace myself...
I try very hard not to do any driving during the holidays. Doesn't always work, and you always run into those selfish fool's who think nothing of causing backups or general dysfunction.
I have suffered the well documented Wal-Mart Syndrome on a number of occasions. I can't tell you how many times the wife has given me a list, and sent me off to complete a simple task. But then as you say, once you enter the doors, there goes your mind.
At least you got to spend some time with the GG's
Hope you have a happy and wondrous Christmas.
I pleaded with Gene and got him to go do the grocery shopping and the last minute Wal-Mart run. He was amazed at the crowds, more than Thanksgiving at the grocery store. We of course are missing a few items (he can't think, "Oh, I need ???", that wasn't on the list), but have more than enough to get through the weekend! Enjoyed your tales and am wearing a big smile now.
My word verification is "wheaze". That is what I'm doing after all the eating I did while cooking today!
Merry Christmas to you and your family Lou! I hope it is very merry and very bright.
Jo, Toby and I ran into a few husbands with that dazed look wandering through Wal-Mart.
Kris, you have a great Christmas, too.
Merry Christmas to you, Toby, and Jess!
re: My last... The whole family, actually, including Bo, the grandbabies, your Mom, and everyone else. I was thinking of your immediate household in my previous, Lou. I'm not fully caffeinated yet.
Oregano socks -- can't stand'm.
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