We came, we parked...we Black Fridayed.
I reluctantly agreed to take Thing 2 to Toys R Us in exchange for his promising to never, ever again bring my underwire bra to school to share at the "Growing Up" program.
Predictably the store was crowded - and not in a good, let's line up early and party cause it's a Springsteen concert kind-of-way. Check-out lines stretching out the door, aisles packed, mostly families with two or three young children, shopping carts filled with toys.
What puzzles me about these shopping excursions "en famille" is how parents maintain the Santa Claus mystique on Christmas morning when the kids open up their presents and discover that they have received every toy that was in that shopping cart at Toys R Us on Black Friday. To bring it back to the religious context in which Christmas was conceived, how would Jesus explain this "coincidence?"
But I digress.
So what does a Jew search for at retail on Black Friday, whilst his Christian brethren are making merry inside the mall?
A Ouiji board to communicate with relatives on the "other side," of course. (That's across the cosmic divide, not on the other side of the New York/Delray-Boyton-Boca divide). While 99.99% of Americans were seeking electronic and Snuggies, Thing 2, the consummate consumer, had pointed his gift-seeking radar at a low tech way to communicate with spirits who, if contacted, were likely to pinch his nose and insist that he eat chopped liver on Ritz crackers while wearing a sweater.
We split up to look for the Ouija Board. "Let me know if you find it," Thing 2 requested brightly. As I sucker punched a three year old to keep her from reaching for the last Justin Bieber "One Less Lonely Girl" doll, I thought to myself, "Oh sure, oh child of mine, I'm going to hold back that piece of information so we can spend even more time in this HELL HOLE."
We left Toys R Us, without the Ouija board. It was too expensive and the check-out line too long.
But I guess our relatives from the other side could have predicted that.