After driving hundreds of miles around the Midwest since Thursday (Iowa to Minnesota to South Dakota and back again), and I am once again nestled into my little ranch house. The Christmas music plays in the background, the fireplace creates a warm glow, and the ‘net creates a lot of diversion for someone who should be doing some schoolwork. Oh, but I haven’t posted on here in a few days, so that too is giving me a great excuse not to think about school just yet.
Did you embark on a Black Friday shopping expedition? Are you writing this from the ICU as a result? Seriously, I don’t think I will ever join that craziness again. Not after my Wal-mart escapade from last year. Sheer insanity! There’s nothing that present such a great deal to me that I’d willingly get up a couple hours before sunrise and jostle my way through a store just to save a few bucks. Perhaps I’m missing that killer instinct that makes saving $20 bucks off a season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer so very, very sweet. I’ve always hated to shop. I kiss my lucky stars every time I can sit down in front of my computer and browse the “shelves” at Amazon or similar stores.
The internet was invented for introverts like me. I believe that.
Getting everything ready for school on Monday, I pulled out the wad o’ creations that both boys had stuffed in their bookbags. I used to save everything they created, but no more. It’s gotten to the point where the picture has to be especially well done or quirky for me to throw it in their “memory box.” (Lest you think that I have some sort of crafty, scrapbook-like box all adorned to hold their art creations, think again. The “memory box” is nothing more than a Rubbermaid container sitting in the basement. I’m classy like that, you see.)
Anyway, as I was rifling through my oldest son’s stuff, I came across a run-of-the-mill Thanksgiving booklet — the kind that tells about the first celebration and then has them draw pictures to accompany the story. When I came to the page about typical Pilgrim dress, I had to laugh. I don’t think my son really gets it:
(My apologies for the blurry pic taken with PhotoBooth.)
I’m sure the Pilgrim version of The Gap was a happenin’ place. At least my son understood enough to add the “scuff” marks to the hoodie. Good job, son.