Ironman Shopathon

I’m more exhausted than I’ve been in a long time. Shopping does that to me. Since high school I’ve lost my taste for it, actually. During family visits to the mall you’d find me at the benches with a book, sitting beside all those husbands with their newspapers and long, tired faces. Boy do I know how they feel. About ten minutes into a store my eyes have glazed over and I begin muttering something about collapsing from exhaustion if I don’t reach the Orange Julius. (Good old Whose Line is it Anyway; anyone remember that skit?)

Anyway, when my husband and I met we had no idea that we’d have a love-hate relationship with shopping - he loved it, and I hated it. To his dismay, on one of our first ‘dates’ at the mall, I began to wilt while passing through WalMart - before even entering the main mall area.

I mentioned to Scott today that shopping ought to be an endurance sport. You know, like the Ironman Triathlon? Well, I think there should be an Ironman Shopathon. Scott thinks I’d collapse three steps past the start line. And he’s right.