I desperately wanted to finish Christmas shopping on Saturday. I didn’t really have that much to do, as the children are getting a gift from Santa and a bit from us under the tree and that’s it. Their birthdays are in November and January and quite honestly, we are drowning in toys. Zoe has every Polly Pocket/Barbie/Webkinz/stuffed animal that’s not a Webkinz/Hello Kitty paraphernalia known to man and Troy, well Troy likes to vacuum. And play blocks. Quite frankly, these kids do not want for anything I was pretty annoyed over the fact that I had to go out and spend my dollars on MO’ CRAP.

(Stay with me, I know I sounded like a terrible, no-good mutha. Admitting you don’t like buying your children Christmas presents?! GASP!)

I must confess, Zoe is almost nine and getting easier to buy for. She really wanted a puppy wool peacoat and that was nice finding her one that I knew she would like. I didn’t really do too many toys for her this year because she owns them all. Her gift from Santa was pretty easy, she just told me what she wanted, I bought it on sale and it was pretty painless.

Since Troy is two and lacks verbal skills, we took him to the toy store to get an idea of what he might want from the man in red. When we walked in, he threw a fit because we wouldn’t let him empty out the rack that held the weekly auto ads. We took him into the store, but he kept running back to the papers. And yelling.

So there’s that.

We were kinda at a loss and then I took Zoe to the dentist. (THIS POST JUST GETS MORE AND MORE RIVETING) The dentist office had a play area with a little play kitchen and Troy was all about it, almost as much as he is all about vacuuming. He played with that kitchen like it was his job.

I decided that nothing would complete my life more that Troy having his very own kitchen on Christmas morning.

But then I got down to the actual business of trying to find a play kitchen. For a boy. A wooden play kitchen. You know, one that doesn’t have hearts and is pink and covered in glitter. Now I have absolutely no problem with boys and items that are considered “girly”. On any given day, you could walk up in here and Zoe and Troy will be playing Barbies and Cabbage Patch and he might be wearing a pink boa, all courtesy of his sister. Its just that Troy is the proud owner of a very manly toy vacuum and I really need his appliances to match.

I started local. I was prepared to spend a bit more, I’m all about supporting local business, but they didn’t have jack. Next step. Target. NOPE. It’s pink. Wal-Mart. NOPE. Only plastic. (He will devastate a flimsy plastic kitchen. He devastated a plastic outdoor slide. One that was built for OUTDOORS.) I then went big guns. Online, baby. I can find ANYTHING online. And probably get free shipping.

Except they were all sold out. Or $399. Next logical step? Ebay.

I found the kitchen, it’s BLUE, and started watching and bidding. I was totally going to get Little Troy a manly kitchen if it killed me.

And then the bidding went up to $140 plus $40 shipping for a kitchen that retails for $79.

As if.

I regrouped and buckled down. I went back online and I found one that would work. It wasn’t my favorite, but it was wooden and not girly. It was out of stock online, but the Toys R Us website said to call the store. After being hung up THREE times while being “placed on hold”, I told Jeff to get the car. We were going to go down there and check with our eyeballs.

It happened to be the last Saturday before Christmas and there were a whole bunch of people there with their eyeballs and my husband was pretty annoyed. He doesn’t like crowds and it took him 15 minutes to find a parking spot. Once inside, we make a beeline for the faux kitchen aisle and I find the display of the one I want. There is one ticket left, YES! They have it! Jeff goes out to the car while I hop in the checkout line.

There is a TON of people in front of me. They have three lanes open and they are not moving, but I am stoked. I found the kitchen! This kitchen situation was starting to bug.

I get up to the front of the line, 26 minutes later, and hand the cashier my ticket. He calls the stock room and reads the item number to the guy. The guy repeats it and I know it’s just a matter of minutes before I have the set and we are on our way to eat Thai food.

And then I hear guy radio back, “WE DON’T HAVE ANY OF THOSE LEFT; THERE SHOULDN’T BE ANY TICKETS OUT.”

Um, yeah. I might have cried. But I didn’t make a scene. I cried when I was leaving with my head down, I had the major sads.

I go to the car and tell Jeff that we are failing as parents. We are just going to have to buy Troy a pony because deep down I know his little two year old heart will be CRUSHED if he doesn’t get a kitchen and he won’t be able to tell us because he doesn’t have the words and then I will have to read about it in his memoirs thirty years from now. How his mother ruined his life because she didn’t support his dreams.

Jeff knew he had a situation. He stopped and got me a coffee and then told me not to worry, we would figure something out. He then took me to HomeGoods because everyone knows that a trip to HomeGoods is better than Prozac. I sipped my coffee and halfheartedly browsed the scarves. I was making my way back to the baskets when I noticed Jeff and Troy were in the toy section.

I went through the toys and happen to glance down on the very bottom shelf. There, sandwiched between a Dora chair and a Nerf something or other, was the EXACT KITCHEN I TRIED TO BUY ON EBAY.

I bent down, hugged the box and started yelling for Jeff. The people around me stopped and stared, they thought I had lost it. I refused to take my eyes off the kitchen, like it would evaporate once Jeff got over to the corner and assumed I imagined it due to my traumatic stress of shopping.

We loaded that bitch up-there was only one-and got out of there. For the incredibly low price of $59.99, ZDub once again believes in the magic of Christmas.

Santa works in mysterious ways, y’all. It’s almost too bad because I was really looking forward to picking out that pony.