The Spoils of a Midnight War

There is an ancient Schmill tradition that dates back to the early 2000's.  For years father and daughter have headed out into the orange-tinged skies of the early morning to participate in the rite of Black Friday.  This year, however, everything changed.  The skies were no longer orange, but black--blacker than the ink that squirts out of a jellyfish when it's nervous.  The few precious hours of preparing oneself by sleeping were a thing of the past.  No longer would anyone else even consider joining the two are their escapades.  For on this year of 11 and 2000, Black Friday began when the clock struck midnight.

Angela and Dad departed at 12:07am with hopes of arriving at Shopko in time to procure the few items on their list: a tablet for grandma, lighted twigs for mom, a shaver for Dad, and a comfy--yet stylish--king-size comforter for Angela.  The tablet was acquired when Dad noticed a pile of unclaimed tablets behind the counter.  Angela approached the clerk and questioned their availability; she was rewarded with a smile and a tablet which was instantly hugged to her chest to shield it from the jealous hoards.  The lighted branches joined the tablet after the team figured out a complex store organization puzzle and negotiated with a mass of women keen on decorating their homes with lighted branches.  The Duo then got in line, approximately 2.5 miles away from the registers.  Dad snuck off for a moment to nab the shaver while Angela made friends with those around her.  Dad's return caused rejoicing for smooth chins everywhere and allowed Angela to venture off in search of the elusive comfy--yet stylish--king-size comforter.  She thought she found the perfect one and headed back to the snaking line which continued to slowly slither forward.  After staring at the bedding through a few bends and turns of the line, however, she decided it was unacceptable: it was not comfy, threads were pulling out everywhere, and the stylishness was questionable.  Her fellow line-dwellers agreed that she ought to put it back and so she left the line once more, grudgingly lugging the package behind her.  Thankfully, after replacing the reject, she raised her eyes up to the shelves at the perfect moment to see the real perfect comforter.  Being micro mink on the outside and ultra Sherpa on the inside meant it was comfy. Its package was clearly marked "King"; and the light green color with soft lines meant it was at least mostly stylish. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, Angela quickly unzipped the package and shoved her hand inside, instantly discovering what heaven must feel like.  It was so soft that she just knew she couldn't walk away.  It was torture to pull her hand away from that ultra Sherpa warmth and comfort, but she needed to get back to the line and Dad.  Who knew what trouble he was getting into without her?!  Dad and all the new friends laughed when they saw Angela approaching with yet another comforter in her wake.  They all agreed, though, after taking their turn to caress the micro mink, that Angela had indeed found the perfect comforter.

After all their success at the first stop, Dad and Angela were surprised by the subsequent failures the rest of the morning.  That same success, however, allowed them to return home and sleep soundly after a job well done.  Grandma would become even more technologically advanced, Mom could decorate in the dark, Dad could stop growing a beard, and Angela (And Ben) would be warm, comfy and stylish.

The End.

The comforter in all its comfy, king-size, stylish splendor

(This blog entry was brought to you after an extremely crazy busy, fun-filled, new-things-overloaded weekend.  Watch for more entries in the next few days to fill you in.  I hope that you all had a blessed Thanksgiving and treasured every moment with your families as I did!)