I read in the news today that a man had been stabbed in the Walmart parking lot. I find it appalling, the jostling and trampling and urgency of shopping that follows close on the heels of our National Day for Giving Thanks.
But that isn’t the reason for our Black Friday tradition. It’s a bit more practical.
For the last several years, my daughter and I have observed that the early weeks of November are particularly frantic, and the month of December is a flurry of activity. So in-between, we have found that nothing suits us better than 48 hours of cocooning. Here’s how it works.
After our Thanksgiving feast, once the turkey is consumed and the last of the leftovers put away, Sierra and I get into our pajamas. We pull out the guest bed in the family room, and for the next two days, Thursday night through Saturday night, we snuggle up, watch movies, eat junk food, take naps. And nothing more.
Doing nothing. We look forward to it all year long. We shop for particular snacks at Trader Joe’s; we save up movies in a pile by the video player. When others talk about trips to the mall or hanging Christmas lights or finishing final papers, we look at each other and smile and think about pajamas and hot chocolate and fresh cookies and old movies.
No shopping. No homework. No catching up on chores. No visiting. Or decorating. We rest, enjoy each other, read a magazine, share a secret, hatch a dream. We sleep in the guest room (and just this one time, the dog joins us for it).
It’s sweet. And simple. We start in on December feeling relaxed, connected, happy. It’s a great tradition.
You might just give it a try.