Curse you, Zhu Zhu.

Okay, I'm sure most you are aware (at least those of you with small children)of the phenomenon that is Zhu Zhu pets; a darling litte mechanized hamster so real you will hardly know they're fake (except for that they don't poop all over the place, get out of their cage and gnaw through your dad's bowling bag, or make your house smell like the bottom of a garbage can).
They are every parents dream pet. And apparantly every childs too, as they are virtually nowhere to be found, except on ebay and other various auction websites where they are selling for hellishly inflated prices (curse you dirty, little sellers for taking advantage of the general public...and during a recession no less).
And of course, Zhu Zhu's had to find a spot on The Christmas List. Normally I would just pick another item from said list and hope that it's desirability is as great as the next, but in this instance there was a problem; the ONLY other item on said list was a GUINEA PIG...a REAL LIVE one. So, Zhu Zhu pets it was.
And for the last month or so I've been on a quest to find the enigma that is a Zhu Zhu hamster(hear all about them, but never actually seen one). I found Zhu Zhu beds, carrying cases, cities and even a Zhu Zhu car...but no Zhu Zhu hamster.
I was beginning to wonder what I might do with all of the various Zhu Zhu accessories I had purchased in hopes of someday finding the elusive rodent, but was quickly losing faith as the Thanksgiving holiday loomed (I try to have all my Christmas shopping done by Thanksgiving day. Mainly because I have a fear of crowds and belive whole heartedly that the number of holiday shoppers quadruples after Thanksgiving, not to mention the constant threat of the swines. But, enough about my neurocies).
Well today, my search for the "holy hamster" came to a glorious end. This very morning I was tipped off by an awesome friend, who's also on the quest, that Target had recieved a shipment of hamsters and that I needed to drop what I was doing and drive right over.
Immediately my endorphins kicked in and I was overcome with adrenaline. I was zooming around the house gathering the kids backpacks and coats so I could drop them off at school on the way. Fearing that I might not get there in time, I begged Chad to head down ahead of me so that we wouldn't miss out on this possibly once in a lifetime opportunity. He agreed and left me to finish getting the kids into the car. The big kids were a little confused by my sudden frantic behavior but did what they were asked...probably out of fear. I'm imagining they saw me similar to The Hulk, only not green, not muscular and not shirtless.
I grabbed Beckham and threw him in his carseat and hopped into the drivers seat ready to channel my inner Dale Earnhardt.
I dropped the kiddies off and burned rubber out of the the school parking lot.
Hoping that Chad had already arrived at the store I called him for the play by play. I wanted to hear him tell me his every move..."okay I'm entering the store, now I'm turning right, now I'm running down the isle towards the toys, okay I see them...I SEE THEM"...and then loud, victorious screaming. Yeah, only it didn't happen that way. When I called he was still passing Asian Star (a lovely restaurant about a mile away from Target) and I was a little deflated. In an effort to distract myself while at the same time emphasize to Chad the importance of this shopping trip, I explained how difficult these little buggers were to find and that unless he wanted to spend three times what they were actually worth he better hurry up...only I said it super nice.
He finally arrived at Target and went inside. When he got to the toy isle he informed me that there were a bazillion people in line and that he needed to hang up. This triggered an involuntary reflux issue I never realized I had. I "swallowed" my anxiety and continued to drive to Target to serve as Chad's backup.
That's when I heard a faint little voice from behind me asking "where we going mom, where we going mom"? Honestly, I don't know how long that little voice had been questioning me. I had been so preoccupied with loftier issues. I realized then that in addition to not telling Beckham where we were headed in such a hurry I hadn't bothered to say hello either. I removed myself from the craziness for a moment and turned around to see his big blue eyes staring at me...such a little cutie. I told him good morning and asked him how he was doing? He just smiled. Then I turned my attention to the baby...THE BABY!!!
The last I remember of her she was sleeping peacefully in her crib. I reached my arm behind me and felt in her seat...EMPTY. HOLY !#@%, in my haste I totally forgot to get the baby out of her crib. Immediately my excited, adrenaline-infused, nervousness turned to the sick, reluxy/vomity kind. I was ready to reach for my cell to call Chad and tell him that I was turning around to go home...for no reason in particular...that I just didn't think we both needed to be there anymore, when he called me. He told me the he had been able to secure four (and no more) of the little rodents and that he was heading home.
"Great", I replied. "I guess I'll just turn around and head home too" I said as nonchalantly as possible, then I put the petal to the metal and headed for home going mach ten. (Sadly this little lapse in judgement was a total buzz kill for my newfound triumph).
The drive home was the longest five minutes of my life, but thankfully all was well when I got there. Thankfully the house was still standing and Rowan was lying peacefully in her crib...just waiting...like she knew what I'd done.
But because of her it will now surely be a very Merry Christmas. Too bad she cannot understand the magnitude of her sacrifice, but it's probably for the best. Given her genetic heritage (refer to previous post titled Avery Chronicles) it's best not to add abandoment issues to the mix.

Just in case you were wondering...

the wicked witch of the east is not dead. As a matter of fact she works at Gardner Village, more specifically the Village Christmas Shoppe and in the form of a dark haired waif, sportin' skinny jeans and boots. I think she hid her green skin under lots of foundation.
Anyway, I won't go into gory details, but I was just there and did not have a happy experience. She was rude to me and rude to Beckham. Naturally, I did not defend myself, but instead...in true Ashman form, let the incident fester inside all the way home. By the time I got home I was ready to explode...and did so in the form of an email, which I sent to the shop and Gardner Village management. I may be blacklisted from the establishement for it, but oh, it felt so good. Wanna read it?

I am a huge fan of your shop and make a point of stopping by whenever I can, especially during the holidays. However, my most recent visit left me feeling frustrated and irritated. An employee, or perhaps even manager/owner was flat out unhelpful and even rude to me. Frankly I was shocked by this behavior as I have never been treated this way on any of my prior visits. Perhaps she was just having a bad day. This particular woman seemed too busy to care about helping me find what I was looking for and at one point even took it upon herself to verbally discipline my child; even telling him he'd have to leave if he didn't listen. I found this particularly inappropriate as I was standing right next to him, supervising his every move. I realize that my contacting you will most likely result in nothing, but it was important for me to remind you that anyone who chooses to work in sales/service positions be tactful and friendly and above all should never treat patrons disrespectfully; even if they are having a crappy day. On a happier note, I was able to find the item I was told you did not carry. Sadly, this is most likely my final purchase, at least for now. But, I may still stop by on occasion, just to see if the accused is still mistreating customers.