Early Bird Special

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Authors: Tracy Krimmer
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technology. Hand me a leather Franklin planner and a pen I could click frantically as I paced a room with decoration ideas swirling through my mind, and call me happier than a gamer at a LAN party. Odd comparison, I know, but if you saw my brother's eyes light up at the mention of a Saturday night holed up in someone's basement playing Counter-Strike, you would understand the correlation.
    I blew into my gloves and rubbed my hands together, as if that would do anything to heat my insides. Well aware it didn't do a thing, I still continued to do it.
    "Francie, sweetheart, why don't you take my seat?" My mom pushed herself off the blue and white chair, tossing her blanket on the seat. Once she crossed her arms into a self-hug to warm herself, my dad stood.
    "DeeDee, no. Francie can sit in my chair. You sit down now." My dad raced past Teddy, who didn't even acknowledge us with his headphones super glued to his ears.
    Every day of my life I spent on my feet, sprinting around ballrooms and conference centers, hiking stairs and searching for grooms five-minutes before they were set to pledge their lifelong commitment. I once stood three feet away from a first-time keynote speaker for two hours with a bucket in case she threw up during her speech. Surely, I could handle another hour of this.
    "Did anyone come out yet to hand out tickets?" I took his seat as he suggested.
    "Yeah, but all the tickets were for things like tablets, which we don't need. They aren't giving them for those toys you came for, so it's just you against the crowd."
    Great. I didn't plan on fighting crazy moms in line for a doll. Knowing I couldn't go home now and change out of my heeled boots into running shoes, I cursed myself for making the fashionable choice. I already pictured pushing my way through the front doors, trying my hardest not to be trampled, and instead tripping over my own feet.
    "Really, Dad? You didn't want to try to get the new iPad and sell it online?" My parents liked to obtain the latest and greatest on Thanksgiving. They didn't always get them all, but they sure tried.
    My mom zipped her jacket down and back up again, this time a tad further so she could stick her mouth behind the cloth. Through muffled words, she said, "Not this year. We're not after the big stuff this time."
    She didn't make any sense. Ever since I remembered their focus was on the hottest items of the season. Before eBay and Craigslist existed, they headed to collectible shops and often received hundreds of dollars for what they brought in. The cash paid for yearly vacations and over the top birthday parties. The first time I helped my mom plan an itinerary for a vacation I vowed to become a party planner. If not for our crazy cold mornings after Thanksgiving, quite possibly I wouldn't be the success I am today.
    My mind spinning with reasons they would abandon their traditional plans, I asked, "Why the sudden change, Mom? If you're going to stand in line, you might as well have something to show for it." Why someone would waste their day standing with hordes of people, who may quite possibly be insane, and fight through the crowds within the store and not walk out with a big item to give as a gift or to sell for profit was beyond me.
    "Francie, as we get older we realize what the most important things are."
    "I still don't get it." My toes started to freeze, my cheeks numb, and my eyes dry and moist at the same time, which I did not even realize was possible.
    My brother still paid no attention to us. He turned off his show and moved onto this video games, bouncing up and down in his chair and high-fiving the air as he progressed a level. My gaming didn't go beyond Candy Crush. As I struggled to pass level 409, I certainly could appreciate his addiction to a game, but his intensity remained a mystery to me. When I crushed a candy, I didn't jump up and down or do somersaults. I never quite understood my brother and didn't think I ever would, considering I was in my

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