In the bustling atmosphere of the sporting goods store, we hold one another’s hand so as not to become separated. Nick finds golf balls on sale and we work our way to the cashier. I live with someone who cannot stand Christmas movies, Christmas carols, Christmas-anything until the week before the big day. I hum “Jingle Bells” beneath my breath and wait for the eye-twitch. Oh well, Sophie’s feeling festive and has participated in the chewing of the Christmas cards and the stealing of the Christmas cards pen. She also rearranges the tree ornament during her free time and adjusts the placement of the gold beading. What a good little Christmas cat.
After the long line shuffle to the cashier, Nick finds fault with the scanner. He tells the employee that the scanner is wrong, that the item is on sale. In a line longer than Pinocchio’s naughty nose, the employee calls up to the golf department while another employee tackles the escalator to head to the department himself. It turns out that the sign was poorly placed and the golf balls were full price. With gruff, he tells the team of sporting goods employees that he no longer wants the items. As we walk away, the smoke billows from his ears and he says, “THIS is why I hate Christmas!”