Today was Hariel’s 5th birthday party. The gala was held at a joint called Dino Dig, where kids dig through sand for toys and prizes. It’s a neat place, my son was thrilled, etc … etc.
Before the shindig, however, we had to get Hariel a present. I’d planned all week on doing so at Marshall’s, only because the store has an absolutely amazing stock of athletic jerseys for kids, and Hariel’s definitely a jock. Over the past bunch of years, I’ve probably scored my kids and nephews, oh, 30 different jerseys from Marshall’s. I don’t think I’m a cheap gift giver, but—factually—Marshall’s charges $15-$30 for the same apparel that costs $50-and-up down the road at Foot Locker.
Anyhow, we entered the store and, shockingly, the jersey stock was painfully low. There was a too-big-for-Hariel ARod Yankee jersey, and an A’mare jersey without tags (I actually bought it for my son, but I would have felt odd giving it as a gift). Since Marshall’s also sells toys, I let Emmett pick out a remote control car, and then we threw in a Nerf above-the-door basketball hoop. Grand total: Roughly $28. I think the suburban rule is $20-$30 for a kid birthday gift—$40-$50 if it’s a relative. Over time, it all adds up.
Well, I suck at wrapping, but the wife was out. So, yeah, I wrapped. Tried making it look presentable, but as the above photo shows, it just looks like a mound of silver shit. The worst part is, you sorta wanna make a Marshall’s-purchased present not look like a Marshall’s-purchased present. Not that anything’s wrong with the store—huge stock, good stuff. But there’s the rep. Oh, Marshall’s—Brand names for less, blah …
Anyhow, that’s my story.