What happens when three children, one Grandmother and two Mamas/Aunties go shopping together in a crowded mini-van during a down-pour?  A whole lot of candy gets bought.  And very few Christmas gifts.  Santa should provide a few of his slacker elves for babysitting service and maybe a reindeer or two for entertainment.  Believe you me.  I might not be a Movember girl, but that white beard might get a little more lovin’ from Mrs. Claus if he was ‘tuned in’ a little to the female quandary of shopping with a pack of little peeps with big eyes and the inability to read price tags.

We first hit up a few bookstores around town, during which time a certain Little Someone got separated from her mother for all of five minutes in one of those stores.  Let me pause to explain.  There is a phenomena that I like to call ‘creative dis-engagment’.  It is a method used by crazed mothers the world over, whereby the stressed mother seeks to detach herself from certain clingons by sneaking off and hiding down store aisles.  By herself.  (And as in my case, slipping off to the book section of the store with over fifty words whilst her little ones blissfully pull every book off the shelf in the children’s section).  However, sales clerks don’t really like this method of shopping, and when Darling Littlest One had finally found me floating in and around the displays at the front of the store, closely on her heels was The Evil Sales Clerk.

“I couldn’t find you,” the plaintive cry from darling child.

“You lost her,” the shrill cackle from evil sales clerk of the nit-picker variety.

I didn’t lose her.  I knew where she was.  She was in this store.  It’s a box store.  I am travelling with two other adults and three other children.  I am sure everything would have worked out in the end.   In fact, I know my child well enough to know the decibel level her vocal chords can give.  We would’ve found each other.  Guarantee it, Cruella.

So, onwards and upwards.  After dodging buying a box of Geronimo Stilton books and a go-Kart (that Littlest One found after “The Mishap”), I was fully unable to avoid the Bulk Barn.  No other place on the planet can you get a little bag of what consists of dry shreddies and popcorn, with a few other  little chocolate pieces thrown in for good measure, and it costs you twenty-six smacka-roos.  I wish I had the stomach of a cow because at least it would be worth something to me later.  And nowhere else can one purchase a few smarties for Christmas cookies and end up cutting into their retirement savings.  Gotta love candy, though.  It buys time, love and a few moments of worthwhile pleasure.  Until someone doesn’t share said candy and you feel like throwing it all out the window and demanding a refund.

So, I guess you could say that on-line shopping is looking pretty good this year.  And if I’ve learned anything from past experience, I do know this.  I have never lost a child yet while surfing on-line through Black Friday/Weekend specials.  Although I am sure with my luck, anything could happen.

Special Note:  I had a blast shopping with my Mom and Sister…in spite of the fact that I should be buying shares in Bulk Barn stocks…