Keeping a grip on that holiday spirit

Today found me at CVS looking for a Christmas card for my fella.
I’d already tried Walgreen’s, a favorite produce market, the garden supply place where I buy fancy-dancy dog food, a different CVS, and, of all places, a card shop. No luck.

          Too many cards have these long and saccharine verses. Verses that go on from one page to another, with To the Man I Love emblazoned in flowing script across the front. Definitely not our style, and unnecessary for a marriage that’s held together just fine for 47 years without depending on someone chained to a copy desk cranking out canned poetry.

          On a mission, I went straight to the card aisle. There was a reasonably good selection. Maybe this time I’d get lucky. Another person was there, a fireplug of a grandmother leaning on one of those miniature shopping carts that you find in drugstores.

          I took my place next to her, in front of the “To Her” section. I needed the “To Him” row but my fellow shopper had positioned her cart right against the rack so that over a foot-wide swath of cards was unattainable.

          I reined in my impatience. I told myself that since her cart was empty, perhaps she was using it for stability and I should therefore conjure up some compassion and Christmas spirit.

          I walked around her and her cart and started on the cards to her left. These were “To the Two of You” and “From All of Us”. Grandma settled more solidly in front of the exact spot I wanted to be, looking for all the world as though her purpose was to memorize each and every sentiment in each and every card.

          I mentally threw up my hands. Maybe I could wait her out. I went to inspect the As Seen on TV aisle. Nothing I needed. I peered back down toward the cards. She was still there, lifting out yet one more card with all the speed of a tree sloth.

          Forget it. I picked up some Pond’s cold cream but on a hunch, looked down the card aisle again. It was empty! I returned, found a card and walked to the front of the store to check out.

There were two registers going, with a line in front of each. Guess who was in the line for the other register. At least she wouldn’t be in my way here, I thought.

          The person in front of me finished and left and I stepped forward.

          The clerk smiled apologetically and said, “This lady was here before you.” and gestured to Grandma who wheezed up in front of me with her carriage.