With a heart as cold and black as mine, it should come as a major shock to anyone who does not know me that I love the holidays. I LOVE the holidays. So much that when they’re all over and it’s summer I’m genuinely sad, because there are no decent summer holidays, well, unless you count my birthday, which, after the fiasco of this year, will never again be counted unless I am promised Vicodin (the one highlight of this years ER trip). Mmm, Vicodin.
(Do you hear that noise, Internet? That is the sound of my husband, somewhere, offering up a prayer that I never, ever have an extremely painful injury that requires loads of Vicodin. Because I would shortly become an addict. My father recently sustained a dumb injury–he walked off the edge of the sidewalk and tore a ligament–I guess strange injuries run in my family. Sorry preemptively Alex and Ben. My initial reaction was to wonder OUT LOUD to my mother if he might notice if he were missing one…or thirty.)
Well, um, anyway, yeah, the holidays.
I was recently at Target, oh joy of joys, and I fell in love with this Halloween decoration. I went home, slept on it, then convinced my husband (in all of his thoughtful generousity) to spend his birthday money on it for me. Er, US.
Back to Target we merrily trekked, where I was immediately informed that they had no more in stock, but that I could “call back in the morning and see if they’d gotten any more in.” Har-dee-har-har, RIGHT. Because on the next breath, the ever helpful employee informed me that even if they had one in stock, and I promised to run immediately over, they would not hold it for me. He seemed unfazed that I had a baby with me, as he was probably blissfully unaware that going ANYWHERE with a baby who is not in one of those awesome portable carseats is tricky, if not impossible, especially on a schedule. AND WITHOUT THE PROMISE OF MY SWEET, SWEET DECORATION.
Since we live in Suburbia, there are at least 3 Target’s in my immediate vicinity (can you say amazing?!?). So after I raked all of the leaves in the yard AND did the catboxes BY MYSELF, Dave was summarily informed that he, in fact, owed me a trip to another one. Inside we ran, through the gales of wind (it’s really, really windy today), I myself nearly knocking over an old lady and the Starbucks chick in the process, where we ended up in the Halloween area. And were promptly informed that they were ALSO out. But we could try a store 30 miles away, but no, they wouldn’t hold it for me. So, I could very well trek out there and not have my sweet, sweet decoration.
Fuck that, I said. Not being an overly competitive person, I have completely given up. I will be at Target again this weekend, and if they should have it in stock, I will be happy to pick it up.
Otherwise, I give up. The consolation stuff I got was cool, but I’m still a bit bitter. And suprised, really. When did my taste in decorations go so mainstream?
Besides, of course, the totally rad Coors Lite sign in my living room. That NEVER goes out of style.