My darling hubby is working this weekend, participating in a super-high-anxiety inspection that makes normally laid back Guard slackers all fidgety and uptight. Yuck. Anyway, I thought that our "life lessons" have been a little lacking lately with the hooligans, what with all of the moving and all. Sooooo...perfect idea. I will take the hooligans to a toy store. Let them select some toys for disadvantaged children, and we will donate them. Passing on the Christmas spirit. Check. Helping others. Check. Generosity. Love. Selflessness. Check. Check. Check.
It started with a big lecture. "Some kids have parents who love them very much, but they do not have enough money for Christmas presents...blah blah blah." We jump in the car, head to Toys R Us. On a Saturday. Before Christmas. While they were having some sort of Door Buster nonsense that meant that every single person within the greater Columbia should converge upon Toys R Us right now. DO IT! Let the giant giraffe be your guide. Get in 50 million car accidents on the freeway on your way there! Take up all the parking places! Let your children generally run amok in the store! Door Busters, people!
Well, needless to say, my plan was flawed. Severely flawed. We were nearly rear-ended on the freeway. We could not park. Trying to keep an eye on both children without backup was darn-near impossible. Actually selecting thoughtful presents was impossible, but we managed to just grab some things. Like tons of sidewalk chalk. No idea why, but Mitch latched onto getting the kids sidewalk chalk.
By the time we made it to the checkout, my kids had had it, I had had it, they both wanted to drive the stupid carousel car thing at the same time, causing them to argue, scream, try to bean each other senseless, and me to pretend I did not know them as all the parents turned to stare at the fighting hooligans. I finally paid, claimed the hooligans as my own, and took our prizes and sidewalk chalk to the customer service counter, so the hooligans could present their donations, be filled with the joy of Christmas, and I could call it a day. "Oh, sorry ma'am. The Marines already picked up the donations for the year." Despite the giant Toys for Tots signs adorning the front windows (along with Door Busters! Run Amok! signs)? Oh, Hell.
By the time we made it home, after traffic and low-blood sugar meltdowns on all of our parts, both kids went to time-out and I was wondering if it was 5 o'clock somewhere. With a trunk still full of toys. And sidewalk chalk.
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