We’re halfway to Christmas, and I haven’t done any shopping. Okay, wait. Let me be more specific. I have purchased a few gifts for my son and my husband, but I bought them both online.
I didn’t have to leave the comfort of my home, or my office (which is where I’ve been spending most of my time), to get the few things on my loved ones’ wish lists. In fact, I’ve eliminated all trips to the store entirely for anything I need this holiday season.
The photo for our annual holiday card was snapped in the living room, in front of our Christmas tree, last Sunday night. I uploaded the file to Walgreens.com, clicked the mouse a few times, and ordered 40 cards and few photo ornaments for the grandparents.
I’ve even hired my Avon lady to do some personal shopping from catalog for me. My sister and mother are going to love their matching bottles of Haiku perfume. (Hopefully they won’t discover it was buy one, get one free.)
I know, it sounds like I’m lazy; I just haven’t got the time.
After working eight hours a day, I dread the idea of dragging a kicking, screaming preschooler to Target to do several hours of shopping. He’d prefer to run around the toy aisle, demanding the latest and greatest lead-laced toy du jour. I’d lose my temper very quickly. I prefer to surf the online stores, enter my credit card number, request the extra flashy gift wrap and wait for my favorite UPS man to deliver my goods.
My sister believes in "real shopping". You know, the kind one would do in the Mall of America the day after Thanksgiving that could easily be considered the Midwest version of the Boston Marathon. She frantically runs from store to store, trying to find the best gifts for the lowest prices. At the end of the day she’s sweating profusely, her hair is falling out, and her wallet is empty, but she swears she "enjoyed" the thrill of the hunt.
I’d love to be able to tackle my gift list on the weekend, but nothing is worse than trying to find a babysitter on a busy weekend in December. The malls are packed with people, the parking lots only offer spaces in Timbuktu, and I just don’t have the patience.
So, while my co-workers are leaving early each day to scavenge the mall, I sit behind my desk and browse the hippest web shops around.
The best part is that I’ve found some unique gifts for my little boy (that aren’t toxic), like this stick horse from Green Little Beans; and I bought my husband a burgundy bathrobe (a Hugh Hefner replica). Now I just need someone to e-mail the hubs to tell him I want this. (But I guess I won’t need to haul anything in it since I’ve done all my shopping online!)