Don't Need a Bootlace That Bad

Good Friday to you, Dear Reader!

As usual, I worked this morning (horses gotta eat, you know), then I came home, where I will stay for the rest of the day.  I am not a Black Friday shopper.  In fact, I went out after work on Tuesday and got everything I could possibly need--food, gas, and otherwise--to get me through until Monday next week.  I don't battle the last minute Thanksgiving ingredient crowds, and I certainly don't take part in the Black Friday shopping mania.

This has always been my modus operandi.  So much so, that all of my kids are also reluctant to venture off property in the days immediately following Thanksgiving.  It's not just shopping that's treacherous, driving is markedly more dangerous in the hysteria of Black Friday.

However, this morning, a little while after I returned from work, DS2 (who is home for the holiday & weekend) asked if I might need anything from the city about 20 minutes away.  "I need to get a pair of bootlaces," he informed me; "one of the laces on my hunting boots broke."

I shook my head.  "Nope, I'm good.  Besides, I can't believe you are going to go in Walmart or Meijer today." He has always been the least social of my kids, the one most comfortable by himself in the middle of nowhere. Maybe living and working in a large city now that he's out of college has changed him, made him a little more used to crowds and heavy traffic.

His eyes widened as realization dawned.  "Oh crap," he said.  "I forgot what today was.  Never mind.  I don't need a bootlace that bad.  It can wait a few days."