Why I Will Never Be Caught Shopping on Black Friday

Okay, I used to almost like shopping at Christmas. Then, I had sons. Sons who grew up and wanted video games. They were no longer happy with the boxes that inexpensive toys came in, they wanted the latest system and they were old enough to say 'Wii' but young enough that it was with a delicious little-boy lisp that made my heart melt. All they wanted was a Wii and a game or two. Unfortunately, that's all everyone else's little boys wanted, too.
I made it my mission to find my boys an elusive Wii. I went to every Target, Walmart, KMart, Costco and Shopko within a 30 mile radius, but it became more and more apparent that I was going to have more luck seeing the three Nephites and taking them home. The Wii was the holy grail of gifts and I became one of the wretched refuse running wild-eyed to the back of stores where the electronics were kept.
I called every GameStop and GameCrazy in Utah. I was willing to drive hours for it. I got a tip about a week before Christmas that a GameCrazy in West Valley was going to get a shipment as soon as it opened the next morning. I woke up early, drove to West Valley through inches of snow, and slid into the parking lot where plowed snow was piled into five foot hills. I waited with heart racing until the men who obviously lived with their mothers and owned the store opened the doors. I ran from the car with a nameless horde characterized by unkempt hair and pajama bottoms. I was third in line. I let myself feel a little euphoric. I was here! There were four Wiis and I was third in line! The horde and I got glimpses of the precious Wiis and gave them the silence they deserved. Finally, the guy in front of me stepped up. There were two Wiis left and...he wanted both. I felt sick and so did the people behind me. A murmur of dissent rose from us all and I briefly entertained the thought of jumping the guy in the parking lot and using the heel of my boot on him. Even after the guy left, I eyed the computer nerd behind the counter and asked, "You have any left?" He shook his head. I went out to my car and sobbed into the steering wheel.
I went home and told Steve about my failure as our sons' mother and the gift buyer of our home. I called my mom and dad and wailed into the phone that I didn't know what to do. My dad, alarmed by my hysteria, assured me that he would find me said Wii. Not believing him in the least, I thanked him and hung up, wondering if my boys would notice when they got Wii games and no Wii...
Two days before Christmas, my dad called me. He sounded like he had run a race and I worried that he was having a heart attack. "I got it! I have a Wii!" he whooped. I whooped back and jumped up and down. My dad had gone to Best Buy and they just happened to have had a shipment come in with 30 Wiis and were handing them out as he walked in the door! Huzzah! Woo hoo! Hallelujah! Dad was and is my hero.
Even now, years later, when I see a Wii, my heart starts racing and I have to fight back the urge to fill my cart with them and race for the cash register, pushing the huddled masses aside with elbows, teeth, and fingernails if I have to.