December 6 – “Late Night … Adventures?”

Here’s an unusual quick tidbit from Black Friday lore.  As you may recall, we had all of the grandkids over that weekend.  Nathan was at work on Thanksgiving Day, so April was perusing a pile of sales ads longingly.  Christi had another batch she sighing over.  Christina had already done some of her research online, so she had her two cents worth as well. 

I’ll never get the idea of starting the Black FRIDAY sale on Thursday.  Oh, I understand the economics of the whole thing.  The stores stand to make a boatload of money.  And I certainly don’t begrudge the consumer.  They really do stand to save a lot of money.  That is, if they only buy what they were already planning to buy and stay away from impromptu purchases.  And I don’t mind going to some stores on Black Friday.  IT’s one of the two best times of the year for people watching.  The other is Christmas Eve.  But can’t it wait until Friday?  I’m just old fashioned enough to think Thanksgiving Day should be about the important stuff.  You know, God and the three “F’s:” Family, Food, and Football.

Finally the pressure got to be too much for them.  April could stand it no longer.  She had to go shopping or she would burst.  We agreed that Cailyn could stay with us.  There were so many kids running around that having one extra for the evening wouldn’t make any difference to us.  As she went out the door she made us a promise: “I’m going to WalMart.  I’ll be right back.  In about an hour.”  And she was gone.  Now this was Thursday evening, right?  The opening moments of the Black Friday nightmare.  I must confess, I was skeptical.  It’s hard enough to keep the shopping down to an hour on a regular day.  Throw in a ton of sales and thundering hordes of people, and an hour sounded like hopeful dreaming to me.  So what did this shopping cynic do?  What any other self-respecting doubter would have done.  I set a timer.  She walked out the door at 7:29 p.m.  One hour.  We’ll see.  Time passed.  Children played.  Football droned on the TV.  And the hour slipped by quickly.  8:29 came and went and I silently chuckled winningly.  Missed her deadline.  But right around 8:36, a mere seven minutes later, the front door opened and she appeared.  Honestly, I was stunned.  Seven minutes.  April, I gotta hand it to you, girl.  You are a master shopper.  She even bought several things she needed.  What can I say?

Now Josh and Christi were obviously a bit jealous of her success.  Their decision was made.  A shopping trip was in their future as well.  But by this time it was bedtime.  And they had three little boys under their care.  And at this point I will add that one other little boy was exhausted.  I went to bed, leaving Chris and Josh talking in the kitchen and Christi helping her little ones to rediscover the wondrous bliss of sleep.  It was only the next day that I found out their little secret.  When the youngsters were nestled, all snug in their beds, they too snuck out for a round of shopping.  At 11:30 p.m. they left for a tour of duty at Galveston’s finest shopping arenas, WalMart and Target.  Now they didn’t exactly have the same run of good luck that April did.  Oh, they didn’t have long lines or crazy-mad, “I gotta have it” shoppers to deal with.  But they did have one tale to tell.  As they pulled into the parking lot of Palais Royal to see if Josh could find a cheap pair of tennis shoes for the Turkey Bowl, they noticed a bit of a commotion.  Before they could get out of their car, a man bolted from the front door.  He was followed by a second man in a dead run, obviously intent on catching the first guy.  Ah, shoplifting at its best.  They watched, transfixed, as if they were extras in an episode of Gotham.  Sadly the alleged criminal made it to his car and fled the scene.  And Josh and Christi?  Quietly drove away.  Palais Royal could wait another day.  Target was bound to have something they could use.

The drive to Target went quickly enough.  After all, this was Galveston in the middle of the night.  And there weren’t all that many cars in the lot, always a good sign.  But as they pulled into the that parking area, three police cars swooped around them, intent of stopping … not their car, thankfully, but an SUV ahead of them that looked suspiciously like … no, it couldn’t be.  It did look a lot like the one the Palais Royal Bandit had disappeared into.  Once again transfixed at the scene before them, they waited just a moment to see the outcome.  Fortunately this time was a false alarm.  Similar car, but wrong license plate.  And more importantly, wrong driver.  Or right driver, I guess would be more accurate.  Josh and Christi’s shopping results?  I have no idea.  I was too lost in the drama to even care. 

You know, maybe there is something to this early-Black Friday extravaganza madness.  Maybe next year I’ll sneak in a nap during the Detroit Lions football game so I can be prepared for some late-late prowling.

Psalms 32:7 says, “You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.”

Father, thank you for protecting my kids from irate shoppers and fleeing felons and things that go bump in the night.  Amen.