Wednesday, December 16, 2009

The Saga of the Tinkerbell Dress, Or, Why I Begin to Dread Christmas

Over a month ago, an extended family member was at my house for part of a weekend while I was gone. I knew she had probably been dragged over to see Annie's extensive Christmas list on the fridge, so I followed up later, when she was back at her house, to ask what she had purchased for the girls. You know, to avoid passing any of those items on as ideas to other family members who asked, and to avoid buying them myself.

Family member (fm) said that, while she had been near all the malls and big chain stores for the weekend, she had gotten both girls "lots of clothes." Then, she asked me to give her one idea for each girl that was a toy, and that she could buy locally, where there are many fewer malls/chains.

I gave her one idea for Annie, and one for Jemma, then crossed those ideas off my literal (but handwritten) spreadsheet. I was semi-annoyed that the request for ideas didn't come sooner, when fm would have been in a better geographic location to get most things the girls would love, but I hoped fm would be able to find the items locally, or else would, you know, order them via phone or online.

Two weeks later, I heard from fm that she "just couldn't find" that Tinkerbell dress I had recommended for Jemma. She wonders if I could find it near where I live. More stores, etc. I tell her that, in fact, I just bought that exact dress for my niece a couple weeks earlier at Target, so I'll see if I can find it there for her. I go to Target. No Tinkerbell dress.

Fm calls randomly one day after this to ask what size shoe Jemma wears. I say six. Fm is sad; she is at the outdoor outfitter store, and they have these very cute Keen boots, only in size five, that she wants to buy for Jemma for Christmas. (!) (?) I remind her she asked me to be looking for the Tinkerbell dress. I also include the fact that, as it is already winter and the girls have begun wearing boots, Jemma has boots for this winter. Also, she wears size six.

We visit fm for Thanksgiving. While we are all merrying around downtown, I sneak into a store to purchase a gift for my father-in-law. When I go to find the rest of the family, they are in the outdoor outfitter store, where fm is making Jemma try on the Keen boots. (!!!!)

We return home. I make YET ANOTHER trip to Target. No Tinkerbell dress.

I call to report this, and ask fm if she would want to perhaps order the dress online from Target, Disney, Amazon, or, I don't know 75,000 possible stores. She would; she would like ME to order it for her. I do. I have it shipped to fm.

Two days later, I go to Target AGAIN, for something else, and lo and behold, they have TWO Tinkerbell dresses. I glare at the Tinkerbell dresses. But I do not buy them, because our Tinkerbell dress is On Its Way.

I receive the e-mail confirmation of the dress I ordered, and I forward it on to fm. The confirmation page contains a sidebar with some sort of "If you ordered this, you might also like to buy this" display of a few other dress-up dresses. Fm sees this and sends me a new e-mail. It reads: "Please order that purple ruffle dress. I want to give it to B for her birthday."

I draw the line here. I tell fm how she could easily order it herself, by clicking on the hyperlink embedded right in the confirmation e-mail. I wash my hands of it all.

I call fm to find out what to bring to holiday weekend, food-wise, and fm frets to me that the Tinkerbell dress hasn't arrived yet. This IS odd, since it's been a week since I ordered it. She wonders if I could call Target? Or the shipping company? And ask where it is?

I look in my e-mail, but the confirmation isn't there, because I deleted it after I forwarded it to fm.

So we're two days away from opening presents with this side of the family, and I have about three hours invested in this one, single gift for one, single person in my family, and I'm about to lose it.


  1. uuuuuuuuuugggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh
    i'll stab you first and then you can stab me. i can't even read this it makes me insane...let alone live it

  2. Ooh boooyyyy....that might be the most high maintenance story of a person I have ever met. Absuurrrddd.....