I know Black Friday is something that everyone loves to malign….but my mom, sister, and I have the most relaxed, wonderful morning. No, really – we do.
After scanning through the ads in the newspaper on Thanksgiving night for any specific deals, we wake early (a true feat for my sister) and plan our route based on the sales and stores’ opening times. We avoid Wal-Mart. We have no high hopes for TVs or video game rocking chairs or Tickle Me Elmo or whatever the thing of the year may be. There will be no in-aisle wrestling matches.
Generally, we have great luck. We find parking spots near the doors. We check out in jewelery or electronics or something, and avoid the long lines. We get some great deals, and are able to consult one another on holiday shopping ideas – something we can’t do any other time of the year. We don’t have particularly high expectations.
Once the doorbusters are basically busted, we stop for coffee and something to eat – at Starbucks or elsewhere. We talk about our morning, and all of the funny people willing to wait in the cold for snow globes or tote bags or whatever the tchotchke of the year may be. We do a bit more shopping. And then we’re home by 9:30 or so, in time to pack the cooler and the thermoses (thermii?), bundle up, and depart on our annual tree cutting expedition with family friends. After driving around in the dark, cold morning from one warm, well-lit store to another, we spend the rest of the morning and afternoon tromping around in the Montana snow, seeking out the perfect tree, throwing snowballs for the dogs, and eating turkey sandwiches with the Thanksgiving leftovers. It’s a great tradition, one just out of J.Crew if it weren’t for my dad’s dorky winter hat. But it’s supplemented by the morning, our own little post-Thanksgiving holiday custom.
Both parts of the day add up to the true start of my holiday season.
(but I can still laugh at this:)