Overtime

Well, another day off tomorrow.  I have mixed feelings.

The kids were finished at school for holiday break on December 19th…16 days ago, if you’re counting.  We’ve kept busy, with the holidays, trips to see movies, visits with family and friends.  But it’s been 16 days.  The kids miss their routines, and their friends.  I miss having at least two hours, Tuesdays through Fridays, where I can just go be “Jen” for a while.  Before last night, I had not left the house without a kid since break started…16 days ago.

Don’t get me wrong; I love my children, to the moon and back, and I know that they love me, too.  After a long break in their schedule, though, we drive each other crazy.  They need the time away from me and the house just as much as I need a break.  They need to exercise their independence, and I need to decompress.

So, imagine my concern late last week when reports of a big snow storm started rolling down my Facebook newsfeed.  I wasn’t as worried about impending snow (as storm tracks change, and often manage to not land on us) as I was about the bone chilling temperatures that were to follow.  I knew right then that we wouldn’t be closed for snow, but chances were probably pretty good that we wouldn’t have school due to super cold temperatures and wind chills.  A “snow day” means that holiday break would be extended.  I was torn.

At least one more day cooped up in the house with the kids (as Alex does not do well in cold temps, so there is no way I’m planning an outing!), which means they will continue to climb the walls.  On one hand, we get to put off the battles of post-break transitions for one more day; on the other hand, I now get to deal with more shenanigans from the kids.

More unintended mischief like the activity I just caught Alex doing in the kitchen, right now as I type.  I was trying to decide what to blog today, and Alex was calling to me from the kitchen about “bubbles”.  I heard the water running, and figured he was filling the sink with dish soap bubbles.  A mess, sure, but it was keeping him busy and he was giggling and enjoying himself.  It wasn’t until he started toward me with our fish, Bubbles, in his hand, that I realized the running water meant that he was trying to clean the little tank in which Bubbles lives (er, lived?  Perhaps too soon to tell…I think the poor fish is in shock…).  He meant the fish no harm, but really?  Really?!?

Or, maybe more fun like the stunt Andrew pulled today at church.  Communion is always served on the first Sunday of the month, and I love Communion service because it is so peaceful and lovely.  After everyone is served, the congregation joins hands, the lights are low, and everyone sings the Lord’s Prayer.  As the song comes to an end, the lights come back up in the church…powerful, right?  Well, it usually is, but today Andrew decided that licking my hand was a good idea.  So there I am, trying to enjoy a typically serene moment, while my kid is licking me and cackling because I’m trying to discreetly pull my hand away.  Ugh.

But, I’m sure we’ll be fine tomorrow.  We’ll find something to do.  Maybe we’ll bake some cookies, play some board games.  Perhaps we’ll have a funeral for a fish.  We’ll see what the day brings.  Let’s just cross our fingers that after Tuesday (because the cold snap doesn’t sound like it will be a quick one…), “snow days” will be few and far between.

Did I mention they will have been out of school for 16  17 days?!?

The View from the Corner Table

Ah, the weekend.  A restful break from the trials of the Monday-Friday schedules; time to relax, catch up, and renew your spirit.

Unless you live in my house.

Weekends are typically pretty chaotic, with little rest and renewal.  My husband usually works part of Saturday, then we attend to whatever the kids have on their schedules, then it’s family dinner time and we’re in bed by 8pm.  I stay up to watch tv or read (ok, fine, to play Words with Friends and Candy Crush, whatever), but that happens most nights because I’m just trying to cope with Mark’s snoring.  Sundays bring church, then the rest of the day is spent preparing for the week ahead (homework with the kids, laundry, blah, blah, blah).

Not terribly stressful (unless the kids are fighting, or having rough days), but certainly not like the days before kids when we could spend Saturday afternoons shopping, then go out for several hours on Saturday night, and then repeat that routine again on Sunday.  I suppose we could, but seriously, we’re just too tired.  Plus, when you add up the cost of babysitters, dinners, drinks, movies…who can afford to do it twice a week?  

So, we settle for the mundane weekends and look forward to the occasional night out.  Tonight happened to be one of those lovely evenings.

With my parents in town, we can occasionally ask them to take the kids for a few hours.  Add that to the generous gift card that my husband received from his employees to a local restaurant, and something magical and rare happens: the FREE date night.  No child care costs, the dinner tab has been paid.  Sign. Me. Up.  Once I realized that we could pull this off tonight, I put the plan in action.

The kids were thrilled to spend an evening with their grandparents (and two of the three are sleeping over there, bonus!), so we dropped them off a bit early so we could run some errands in peace.  Then we went to restaurant, and because we arrived shortly before the big dinner crowd, we were seated right away.

We were placed in a nice, cozy corner of the restaurant, where I could sit and look out at the other tables.  A dinner without the kids AND people watching?  Yes, please.  Not long after we sat down, a family was seated next to us.  I saw the two young children approaching their table, and I’ll admit it, I inwardly groaned at the thought of losing my quiet evening out.  Let’s face it, most children can be noisy.  My children are very noisy.  I always cringe when we have to sit down next to other diners, because you can actually hear people think negative thoughts when they see children in restaurants.  I would never say anything, because unlike others, I completely understand that kids can get antsy when you tell them to sit quietly in a new place for longer than five minutes.  I may not like it, but I get it, and I deal with it.  So, tonight, I was mentally preparing myself for a not-so-cozy dining experience, when I heard one of the nearby kiddos order their drink: “May I please have a lemonade?  Thank you!”  Manners…without prompting!  My kids have pretty good manners (I insist on it), but I do sometimes have to prompt them, especially in restaurants, because they are nervous about ordering (I mean, I can see where it would be awkward, being made to talk to a stranger just so you can have some chocolate milk…).  The kids at the table next to us were rock stars through the whole meal; no raising of their voices, no constant trips to the restrooms, no fighting over electronics while they waited for their food.  It was nice. After I realized that these children were cool, I could relax again.

That family was in and out of that restaurant fairly quickly (and didn’t leave without the kids thanking their server…maybe they were actually robot children…), and soon another party was brought to that table.  This time, a pair that seemed to be father and son.  The son seemed to have a developmental disability, although I couldn’t tell what (and it didn’t matter; it was simply an observation, one I’m prone to make as the mother of a child with Down syndrome), and he looked very excited to be dining out.  As the father was settling in, he looked up to see me watching them with a smile (as I was reminded of my Alex, who loves eating out in restaurants), and gave me a weary smile in return.  I know that expression, all too well.  The “yeah, my kid is different, I know” smile.  The brief look of concern at having someone watching them.  I’ve totally been there.  We get stared at all the time.  I see people watching us, sometimes with looks of irritation when Alex is not behaving well.  It only takes one negative experience like that to master that fake, tired smile.  That lightening fast acknowledgment and silent warning to strangers to keep their opinions to themselves comes naturally now, and I could see in that father’s expression that they have experienced it too.  I wish I could have silently let him know that I understood, that he’s not alone in those feelings; I could have easily conveyed that had Alex been at the table with us (but, let’s face it, I probably would have been too busy shuttling kids to and from the bathroom to even notice the people around us).  Instead, I focused on my dessert selection, but not without stealing glimpses of the duo next to us (this kiddo had excellent manners, too!).

Our quiet dinner came to an end all too soon, and we had to go back into the cold and return to reality.  These times are rare for us, and we enjoyed every second.  We’ll resume our boring weekend regimen now, and get ready for the week ahead.

But not before I catch up on my words and crushing of the candy…

Happy Birthday to Me!

It’s my birthday and I’ll blog if I want to…ok, enough of that.

Today is indeed my birthday, a day I enjoy and look forward to every year.  Why?  Because when birthdays stop, that becomes a problem.  Right?  Right.  So, as much as I don’t enjoy the extra gray hairs and wrinkles that aging brings (although you have to look closely to see any of that, thanks to my hair stylist and my fantastic AVON products!), I still celebrate my special day.

Social media has brought a fun new aspect to birthdays.  I woke up this morning to no less than 20 Facebook messages, and that number has exploded throughout the day to over 100.  So fun!  Each and every message has brought a smile to my face.  I’ve also received tweets, texts, and phone calls.  Truthfully, I am very grateful to everyone who has taken even just a few seconds to wish me a happy day.

This year, my day (or, Jenapalooza!) has some competition.  My kids have been out of school for two full weeks now, and we are all driving each other crazy.  Our beloved football team, THE Ohio State Buckeyes, play in the Orange Bowl tonight.  And, apparently there is some crazy weather taking aim at us (which, to my horror, could end up in snow days and an even longer holiday break).  But, I will still eat pizza and ice cream cake and bask in the knowledge that I have a few more hours to celebrate.

What do you think of birthdays?  Cause to celebrate, or time to fret?

The Story of Maisey

Happy New Year!

Well, did you make it?  Did you stay up to ring in 2014?  I did not.  Didn’t even try.  Once two of the kids were asleep, we threw in the towel and headed to bed at 10:30pm.  I didn’t even wake up at midnight, which means that none of the neighbors were shooting off the fireworks of which they are so fond every other time of year.  So, yeah, welcome 2014.

As I’ve mentioned, I’m not big into resolutions.  I don’t see the point.  I just heard this morning that most resolutions are ditched by January 17th.  (Note to self: the gym should be back to normal by the 17th!)  I do have goals for the New Year, though, but let’s not call them resolutions.  They shall be GOALS.  Less intimidating that way.

And so I give you my list of GOALS for 2014:

*Be more consistent with my diet and workout plans (ie, start diet and workout plans!)
*Be more responsible with spending (the kids do NOT need 15 pairs of pants, even if they are marked down to $2/pair, and really, nobody needs to stockpile toothpaste, unless you plan to donate it all)
*Read more (in addition to the books shared with the kids)
*Write more (blog every day, like it or not)
*Be more proactive with meal planning, grocery shopping, and cooking (this is a tough one, as I do not enjoy any of it, and I can be very lazy about it…the six cans of tomato paste in my pantry attest to that…more organization and planning will be less stressful…see second GOAL)
*Try to be still (not everything has to be done right this minute, and I don’t have to say “Yes!” to everything)

Nothing to shocking here.  These are more open-ended goals, and maybe I’ll even add more.  We’ll see.

What goals are you making for the new year?  Share them, and we can cheer each other on!

Wishing you a day full of whatever makes it a good holiday for you.  Happy New Year!

Resolutions

2014 is slowly creeping up on us.  Ready or not, here it comes.

New Year’s Eve has never been a big deal for me.  Honestly, I’d rather go to bed than sit up with overtired kids and Twilight Zone reruns.  After all the rushing around for Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, birthdays (there are four December birthdays among my family, including Andrew’s), and Christmas, I’m too freaking tired to make another fun holiday celebration.  So, here I sit, in my champagne jammies, listening to the kids fight over electronics and impatiently wait for the big, sparkly ball to drop.

New Year resolutions have always been a bit baffling to me, too.  Why only set new goals at the beginning of the year?  That’s easy.  It would be much more challenging to set resolutions after all the confetti settles and winter really grabs hold (I suppose that only applies if you live in an area of the world where “winter” means cold temperatures, snow, and ice).  And what happens if you accomplish whatever resolution to dream up on New Year’s Eve?  Do you write more?  Or do you sit back and coast through the rest of the year.

Perhaps I just don’t feel brave enough to challenge myself with a resolution.  I typically don’t make them, at least nothing that is too difficult.  I have a lot going on, with the kids, and it’s simply easier to let myself off the hook.  Sounds like a resolution right there, no?  Seems straightforward enough: make more time for myself, to do what I want to do.  Read, exercise, read, write, read.  I have a huge stack of books that I want to read, yet I am constantly resigning myself to thoughts of self pity, and end up “rewarding” myself with another round of Words with Friends rather than reading a few pages out of the book I’ve been trying to finish for two months.  It’s easier to play silly ten point words than concentrate on the words on the pages of a novel, right?  My eyes would roll to the back of my head if one of my kids tried to tell me that time on electronics was more important than getting in their daily fifteen minutes of reading. So, maybe that’s a good place to start.  More “ME” time.

Hidden in there would be making more time to write.  A dear friend challenged herself to write every day last year, and she accomplished it.  I admire her so much for that; she is also a very busy mom, yet she made time for herself and her writing EVERY day.  I could do that.  I mean, if I can move the kids’ elf every night for three weeks, then I could certainly bang out a blog post every day.  Maybe?  Some days will probably be boring, uninspired, and even ridiculous…but if I can force myself to sit down and focus on the thoughts in my own head long enough to craft an essay, then that would be something.

The very thought of writing every day is exciting and scary.  What if no one reads what I write?  That actually doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would, although I do dream of having a fun, popular blog that spawns into a best selling book.  The really scary part is thinking of all the nasty comments people could make about my writing.  Could I handle it?  I read what the “trolls” post in response to stories that pop up in my Facebook newsfeed.  Words like “rude”, “ignorant”, and “terrifying” come to mind when reading those comments, and some of them really stick with me for days after seeing them.  Why should I care what Joe Schmo thinks about some “breaking news” story or what another blogger writes?  Because someday, they could be hurling those insensitive words at me, in response to my writing.

But, maybe that’s what I’m meant to do: inspire people enough to cause them to pause in their crazy little worlds to leave a comment based on what I wrote.  Like it or not, I could have an affect on them; hopefully for the better, but I’ve seen train wreck blog posts that cause quite a stir. (Mrs Hall, are you out there somewhere?)   Perhaps, though, even the disastrous of essays can spark a conversation that needs to be heard and shared.  I could do that.

Or, if nothing else, writing is cheaper than therapy.

I guess I can give it a go.  Blog everyday and cross my fingers that somebody, somewhere, reads it.  We’ll see what happens.

Until then, have a safe and happy New Year’s Eve celebration.  Or, if you’re like me, sweet dreams, and enjoy that champagne in a mimosa tomorrow morning.

Christmas Wish

Christmas is a magical time.  The stories, the lights, the excitement.  The wonder and awe.  I fondly recall my childhood holidays and that’s what I remember: the magic.  Recently, in the midst of the “making Christmas” chaos, I remembered that this doesn’t go away once you grow up.

I’ve always tried to stress the “giving” part of the holiday to my kids.  They are blessed to have a beautiful holiday every year (and I am blessed to be able to do this for them), and I want them to know that it’s not all about elves, pretty wrapping paper and sweet treats.  I think they are hearing me, but they are still so young; I figure that if they all get there by the time they are 10 years old, then I can consider it a success.

Since I was a teenager, I have made it a point to donate toys during the holidays so that everyone can have a chance to partake in the magic.  Beginning in high school (when I had my own money, from babysitting or my job), I would buy toys and take them to the fire station.  I always wished I could do more, but I did what I could, then would hope that the toys would bring smiles to someone, somewhere.

I still make an effort to continue this tradition, and now I get to involve my kids.  It’s a little tricky, navigating around the Santa tale, and I have to be careful in my responses to their questions.  “Why doesn’t Santa just bring gifts?”  They aren’t being sassy; they are just trying to wrap their little heads around it.  As briefly as possible, I explain to them that not all families can give gifts, like theirs can, so we’re being Santa’s helpers. They are ok with that response, for now at least, and they also enjoy shopping for others.  They were excited to help me wrap the gift we purchased to donate, and they couldn’t wait to place it under the tree at our church.  After dropping off our gift, Addie (my sweet seven year old) noticed several other tags hanging on the tree.  Each tag represents a Christmas wish; after careful consideration (you can just see the wheels turning in their little heads!), she began pulling the tags off the tree.  I quickly realized her intent, and had to gently tell her that we’d have to wait and see how many more gifts we could bring (I’m a bargain shopper, but unfortunately not that good!).  She was disappointed, but she understood, as she is learning about money and spending/saving.  The wheels were then spinning in my head, too, trying to figure out how I could reallocate what I’d already planned so we could pick up a few more wish items.

A few days later, as we were riding in the car, she asked if she could share her Christmas wish.  I fully expected to hear, again, about the iPod Touch she wants, or the American girl dolls (yes, plural!) she has an eye on,  or one of the other items on her list.  She is just seven, after all, and fully believes in Santa, but she does understand that Santa doesn’t bring everything on her list.  I never imagined that her response would be this:

“My Christmas wish is for everyone to have something to open on Christmas morning.”

Whoa.  No mention of anything for herself, no creative arguments about why a second grader needs an iPod Touch.  She was still thinking about those tags left hanging on the tree at church, about our conversation from a few days back.  I was stunned.  And so very, very proud.  She gets it.

The next day, I was telling my mom about what Addie had done and said, just in casual conversation.  I was surprised to later get a call from my mom, telling me that she and my dad wanted to help honor Ad’s Christmas wish by purchasing more gifts to donate (so, so awesome!!).  Just a couple days later, my dad and I dropped off two big bags of cheerfully wrapped gifts.  I wish I’d had a camera hidden to record Addie’s reaction when I told her of all of this.  She was so excited, and happy, to know how many kiddos would have something to open. Again, there was no mention of her own list, or the things she wants.  Just pure excitement, knowing that others would get to experience a happier holiday.  Her Christmas wish was coming true, right before her eyes.

I was reminded that the Christmas magic doesn’t end when you stop believing in Santa.  The magic of the holiday comes when you open your heart and care about others.  Her holiday will be even more special because she learned the importance of giving.  In all my hustling and bustling over the next few days, I can stop and quietly reflect on this magic; knowing that at least one of my kids is really listening to all the “wisdom” I try to impart on their little minds, to shape them into the “good” souls that I envision, is the best gift, ever.

Merry Christmas to all!  May the magic of the holidays touch your lives, as well.

Holiday PSA

I started this year by blogging about my wish for 2013: Just. Be. Nice.  I figured I should revisit that topic before the year ends, so here we go.

As you are out finishing up (starting?) your holiday shopping, just be nice.  Easy peasy.  I’ve been doing this, and it does make a difference.  Smile at the lady who comes flying out of an aisle and almost runs you down with her cart.  She’s not trying to flatten you; she is just as distracted as you are with her holiday task list.  Wave to the car that lets you in a huge line of traffic.  They don’t have to let you in (although, they should, especially since someone else probably let them in, but whatever), but they did, so let them know you appreciate it.  Don’t raise your voice at a customer service rep because the post office is holding your shipment from their company.  I’m pretty sure they lost control over the situation once they handed over your package to ship.  It’s very frustrating, but not their fault, and certainly not the fault of the poor soul that took your call.  Be kind to the cashier who may seem completely over it and frazzled; they probably hit the wall a week ago.  Their feet are tired, their patience is thin, they are being paid in beans.  A kind customer in the midst of a horde of nasty ones could make a difference in their whole day.  It’s everyone’s holiday; you are not alone in your preparations and celebrations.

Think I’m being bossy by telling you to be nice?  Well, get over it.  We’re all in the same boat…the big, red, glitter-covered, time-is-running-out holiday boat that sets sail in less than a week.  Might as well be nice to each other, because it will make the whole experience a little less stressful.  Do I never have a bad day during the holidays?  Of course I do!  But, I’ve been on the other end of the madness, and trust me, it sucks.  I get it: everyone is tired and stressed.  That, however, is not a free pass to be a jerk.  Using basic manners and kindness will help you get through the last stretch of the holidays.  I promise.

So, here’s to smiling and waving at strangers, being friendly with tired cashiers, and not screaming like a lunatic when your packages don’t arrive.  Merry Christmas to all, and don’t be a Grinch.

Customer Service IS Alive and Well

If you’ve been keeping up with my blog lately (and I’ve made it fairly easy for you…my lack of writing surely makes your reading load a bit lighter, no?), you know that I’ve been grouchy about the level of customer service I’ve seen in my daily adventures.

If you’ve been keeping up with my Facebook feed (now that’s a little more challenging!), you’ll remember that my Alex managed to purchase several non-learning apps while we waited for the other kids at their dance classes a couple of weeks ago.  I recently learned that the App Store stays “open” for fifteen minutes after you enter your password.  If I’d had this information earlier, I could have saved myself some time.  Eh, well.  What’s a life experience if it doesn’t provide any lessons, right?

So, to recap, while Al and I were waiting for the other two kids at their dance classes, he asked me to put a new game on his iPad.  I found an educational, free app right away, so I happily obliged and then turned back to the magazine I was reading.  He played away, without interrupting my reading, for about ten minutes before my inner voice kicked in and prompted me to look at what he was doing.  I was so engrossed in my stupid magazine (and enjoying the very rare opportunity to flip through it without being bothered) that I failed to notice that Alex had been on an app shopping spree.  Ugh!!

To his pure dismay, I grabbed his iPad and quickly figured out how to enable restrictions.  That ended the app free-for-all, but I couldn’t tell just by looking at the apps if he had paid for them, or if they were free.  My gut told me that they were probably the most expensive apps there were.  I was almost right.

The next day, I could see that my bank account was charged $16.09 for three apps (I should note that for almost a year, I only downloaded free apps because I was too stubborn to pay for any…so seeing that Al paid $9.99 for one app made my eye twitch a bit).  I definitely got lucky, as it could have been way more costly, but at this time of year (Hanukkah, Andrew’s birthday, Christmas…) I can stretch $16 pretty far.  I debated on calling Apple to see if they would consider reversing the charges, but I wasn’t certain if they would have any compassion.  I’ll admit it, I should have been watching him, and it was totally my fault that he got app-happy.  I decided to put it out on Facebook to see what others would do.

I was relieved to learn that Alex was definitely not the first kiddo to do this, and he was actually the most conservative in his purchases, by far!  All but one person reported that Apple had been willing to credit them for the unauthorized charges, so I decided to give it a shot.

I finally sat down the other day to call Apple, and spoke with a lovely support rep, Rebecca.  I sheepishly explained the situation, and while waiting for the lecture that I fully expected, I was surprised to hear her offer to refund the charges.  Wow.  I thought I’d have to put up a bit of a fight, but nope.  Not at all. Then, she offered me three free song downloads, for “my inconvenience”.  Whoa!!  I’m the dumbass who gave my kid full access to the App Store, and you’re giving me complementary downloads?  Awesome.

It would be so great if this type of service was the norm.  Not even the offering of free stuff; Apple had won me over before that. If every place had pleasant, patient employees who are actually willing to do their job and be nice about it, I think we’d all be a lot happier.

Now, how do we get there?  Higher wages?  Better benefits?  I have no idea where to start.  But, I am one happy customer, with a somewhat renewed faith in finding good service, because of this experience.

And Alex will not be shopping for apps, unsupervised, for a very, very long time.

Redemption

After last week’s adventure into the Disney Store, they earned a spot on my “list”.  Any more, it’s not difficult to land on my list, as most places seem to have tossed customer service aside.  There were two new additions to the list just last week; at this rate, I won’t have any stores left to shop.  (Wait…did you hear that?  It’s the sound of my husband rejoicing at the thought of me no longer shopping.)

However, as of this morning I still had my stupid Disney coupon, and I still needed to pick up my Planes dvd, and Andrew still wanted Bulldog the plane.  So, after my workout, I headed back to the Disney Store, all the while hoping that Santa would not throw a wrench into my shopping efforts once again.  I was determined to accomplish this simple task that had become quite ridiculous.

When I entered the store, I immediately headed to the shelves where the planes are displayed, only to search all of them and not find the elusive Bulldog.  I had absolutely no patience left for this expedition (yes, that quickly), and just wanted to get out of there.  But, because I really needed to pick up a couple of birthday gifts, I figured I should suck it up and take advantage of the coupon.  So a browsin’ I went.

I should note that not one person greeted me, or stopped to ask me if I needed assistance, and after about 15 minutes I was convinced that someone had shared my last blog post with them, and that they recognized me (damn bright pinkish-red coat!).  The very thought was quite amusing and frustrating, all at the same time. One woman (whom I later determined to be a supervisor) was apparently too busy rearranging tshirts to ask me if I needed help, even after I stood right next to her, purposefully looking lost and confused, silently daring her to talk to me.  No luck.  And yes, I realize that sounds a little psycho, but hey, I don’t criticize your hobbies.

Then, like a bright ray of Disney magic, a friendly face appeared in front of me, commenting on a book I had selected for my Addie (to put in her stocking).  We started chatting about the book, she showed me another stocking stuffer idea, then she asked that question for which I’d been waiting: “Is there anything I can help you find?”

Boy, did I run with that one.

I explained to her that I wanted a Bulldog, that there weren’t any on the shelf, and that I was hoping to pick one up with my coupon.  Instead of stumbling over to the display to look for something that obviously wasn’t there, or running around like a four year old after spotting Santa, she did the most wonderful thing: she walked over to a computer, found a Bulldog in their warehouse, and set it up to SHIP TO MY HOME, FOR FREE.  Boom.  That was it.  Easy, peasy.

I was both ecstatic and disgusted.

How freaking hard would it have been for either of the sales associates to offer to do that last week?  But yay!  Andrew will get the plane he wants.

Customer service is not rocket science.  Not by a long shot.  I went in to that store today, ready to throw down if Santa or any of his jolly little elves came along and distracted the sales associates from helping me. But, because of the simple effort of a knowledgeable employee, I left a happy customer who might just return to shop there again.

For now, the Disney Store is off my list.  This could be a record; to date, it’s the only store that has landed on the list and then fallen off of it after just a few days.  Walt should be proud.