Maybe we’re getting too old. Maybe the kids are.
I can’t find anything they want, and I certainly can’t find anything I want to get for them.
I HATE Christmas shopping in stores
I’m a good shopper. I am better prepared to find my way around the Bangor Walmart in the dark than I am my own house. Beth and I were just there this evening, and she needed to pick up some make up wipes for Liv. I knew exactly where they were: the first thing on the left, about chest high, four aisles down. That’s where they keep them. I know these things.
The thing I hate most about Christmas shopping is the wandering. The aimless looking at row after row, store after store full of crap nobody wants. Seeking inspiration. Maybe we’ll find something that “feels right” for somebody on our list. Bah Humbug!
Give me a clearly defined list of things you want. No ambiguity. If it is within my power to make this happen, I’ll gladly do it.
The kids gave us their lists, and they were rather specific, honestly. Nothing outrageous, just things that don’t seem to exist outside of an Amazon warehouse. Adidas sweatpants with the word Adidas running up the leg? Not in Bangor. Air Jordan t-shirts? Nope. Four hundred different shirts in six different stores, but all with big swooshes on the chest, but not one with His Airness. Something as simple as a Stranger Things shirt in an adult size small? No chance.
Thankfully, they’re mature enough to just give us a wishlist on Amazon. Simple. One-click ordering. Takes the magic out of it I suppose, but who really cares?
But Beth sees online shopping as a last resort. She loves driving all the way to Bangor and wandering through each and every retail outlet looking for what the kids want. Only to waste hours of our precious time and decide that our best bet after all was to do our shopping in our PJs with a hot cup of tea.
We spent hours in Bangor today, with less than 10% of what we’d planned accomplished.