It was our first foray into Christmas shopping, 2014, the day after Black Friday.
I meandered aimlessly through the department store, my wife’s words echoing in my ears: “We’ll just stop for a few things after we take Mary to the airport. At least we’ll get some Christmas shopping started. Don’t worry. I want to get back early, too.”
That was an hour a half ago, a passing moment for a shopper; an eternity for me.
The truth is, she is a conflicted shopper: She loves to shop but doesn’t like to have to shop.