He had a gun.
I had a check-list.
And it was smack dab in the middle of the holiday shopping frenzy.
What on earth were we thinking?
We weren’t even going to register. For the longest time we held firm that registering was just asking for gifts and that’s not what we are all about.
But then social conventions took their hold. We were told by multiple friends and family that we really ought to do this thing for people who will want guidance on their gift buying.
Despite our arguments that we don’t really expect gifts…which was quickly shot down by the argument that people will want to give gifts. End of story.
(To which I still say, I really don’t care if you give us a gift. Honestly. If you are invited to the wedding it’s because we want to celebrate with you.)
And because we procrastinated on the whole deal, we found ourselves at two large chain stores that sell home goods along with every other holiday shopper in Johnson County, KS Saturday afternoon.
It did not evoke any holiday spirit in me.
Or the wedding spirit for that matter.
As the fiance will attest to, I was really into it during the cooking section of store #1. Cooking is my thing. And I had a lot of fun playing fantasy shopping spree with my kitchen in mind. Oh, the things I could fix…the fires I could catch…the wine we could drink.
But as we entered the bedding/linens area, my enthusiasm waned. I felt the pressure of having to make decisions about our home that could potentially stick with us forever.
Colors, fabrics and pillows. Oh my.
The fiance wasn’t helping.
Me: Oh, I really like this button detail on that pillow.
F: Wouldn’t that poke your head to lay on?
Me: You don’t lay on that pillow.
Me: It’s a throw pillow. It goes on top of your sleeping pillows.
Me: It’s for decoration.
F: So you put them on the floor?
Me: No. You put them up when you go to bed so the dog doesn’t lay on them.
F: How will I know what to do with them when you are out of town?
And it wasn’t just that. It was trying to pick towels that were both soft and fluffy and pretty.
And colors that didn’t make the fiance heave.
I began to feel like a home-design failure. I didn’t know which vases or picture frames or decor doo dads would look good together.
The fiance, who was even less into the home decor than I was, began to amuse himself by scanning my butt.
He then took advantage of his new knowledge of throw pillows and scanned this hideous mauve feather-covered pillow.
It was very funny, I had to admit. But somehow, being in that store, surrounded by all those pretty things compelled me to tap my inner homemaker.
Only, when I tried to tap it, there wasn’t anything there.
Look what we are dealing with here: we have two bar stools in our living room that we use to eat on when we sit at the couch. And speaking of couch. There is a hideous blanket hung up behind it to block the light and avoid a glare on the TV because picking out curtains makes me tremble.
By the time we entered the “artwork” portion of the store, I was done.
I could not make another decision, even if you told me that I could have all 12 pieces of the Calphalon cookware that had excited me two hours earlier.
It was time to turn the gun over to the nice sales staff and call it a day.
The fiance watched me literally walk out of the store.
Was it something he did/said?
No, I told him. I just couldn’t absorb any more color combinations, style decisions or Christmas crowd dodging. I was through.
But there was still an entire store to get through before we could call it a day. (We decided to register at two stores to give people more options and because one has better cookware than the other and one has electronics and the other doesn’t. Guess who goes with each store?)
Luckily at store #2 we actually had some items to purchase for ourselves. So we were able to distract ourselves me with shampoos and hand lotions.
Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.
And then with the check-out line in view, I just sort of settled into it in the glossy-eyed way of someone heavily medicated. Sure. Scan that box of candy. It will be a good option for the budget- conscious.
Yeah, we really need that Playschool Fake Food set. It will come in handy when I don’t want to cook.
We were done. There were no more decisions to be made. The gun was returned and I could sit in the car for the 20 minute ride to the mall and rest my feet.
What? Did you say mall?!
Yup. Mall. To the jewelry store to purchase my pretty, sparkly wedding band.
That wasn’t such a bad thing.
And so, we are now registered. My band has been purchased. And the clock ticks on closer and closer each day to February 27.
I couldn’t be happier. Even in our un-fashionable house with our crappy cookware.