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The Most Important Thing In Life

December 16, 2009

Patty fell.

In the midst of a week and half stretch that saw me get a $230 ticket for driving the wrong way down an alley (actually), spend upwards of three hours on the phone with customer service award of the year recipients: Bell, and work till midnight the night that my sister and her brand new baby fly into town four the first of four days, I’ve come to realize the importance of those things in life that rise above all the rest.

Shopping Statistics

I’m not big into all the advanced stats that I read about everywhere, but I find myself calculating the amount of time and money I spent correlated with the size of the intended recipient of the gift that this time and money purchased. I’ve discovered that the more time you spend in the store added to the amount of dollars handed over, divided by the wieght in lbs of the recipient is oppositely proportional to the importance of the thing in your life. Example, if I spent 5 bucks and ten minutes buying something for Sheldon Souray, that means it’s not very important. Conversely, if I spend an hour and buy something for $35 for baby Dyllin, who weighs approximately 2 grams, that means that in the grand scheme of life it’s a pretty important thing.

As I stepped into my neighbourhood coffee and craft store today I was instantly reminded that the gifts and coffee I would find today would be friggin expensive. Everything in there is hand-made, thus the demnad for top-dollar. I understand this, and already I was feeling good about my decision to buy local. I saw a large serving bowl, light beech coloured, wide, shiny, extremely beautiful and basically taken right off my sister’s christmas list. What? $325.00. Holy eff. No problem, I’m here for the MOST IMPORTANT THING IN LIFE.

In addition to me wanting to buy local, hand-made gifts from atop my high-horse, I selected this store because a few weeks prior I noticed some really cool stuffed animal things. The lady that owns the store creates one-of-a-kind, um, again, stuffed animal things that are weird looking. My neice was weird looking up until a couple months ago because she was born 8 months premature, so I figured I was on the right track. There were fish made of mittens, triangle-men with two different buttons for eyes, turtles with circles of fabric as the pattern on their shells, and other wacky characters that were all unique. A large duck-looking creature with dangly arms and thoughtful eyes jumped out at me after a long search. No, he didn’t seriously jump out at me! Though I wish he had! No, this little guy was perched all alone on his shelf, just waiting for a thoughful handsome shopper like me to swoop in and post bail.

I’m set, I thought. He’s very soft, but he’s not super cute by any stretch of the imagination. He’s unique, and I think of my niece, so far away for 360 days of the year, holding him close with her useless little arms on cold dark nights. Maybe she’ll have a secret name for him (maybe my name! Can you imagine?!), and she’ll take him everywhere she goes. He might not look like a typical companion for the smallest child ever made, but he’s got style.

Sometimes we shouldn’t worry about looking the part, or being fancy, or projecting the image that we think everyone wants from us. Sometimes we should just be who we are and let the chips fall where they may. We’ll get rewarded eventually, even if we’re goofy looking, or our phone company is an idiot or we haven’t scored in eleven games or our arms are useless. Sometimes even though we have to work late, our tiny nieces will roll into town, chase away the weather itself and bring some peace and quiet to our weary minds.

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