Unlike most households, we didn’t squabble after our Thanksgiving meal. Last night my family came together, a united front. We didn’t share hot mugs of apple cider and warm memories around the fireplace or exchange high-fives over our favorite football team. Instead, our basement was turned into a black Friday military war room. This year’s intended targets, Num Num, Chunk, Pip Squeak and Mr. Squiggles, the Zhu Zhu Pets.

My parents are willing to go into in hand to hand combat situations to attain these rare, battery operated hamsters for my nieces. It also must be said, these are the same parents who gave me a floor model Castle Grey Skull scooter for Christmas because (according to them) it looked just like the pink Barbie Bike I wanted. My parents who professed ad nauseum the virtues of patience and saving have now gone Rambo, declaring war on all other shoppers. Their grandchildren will get the ‘it’ toy this year even if they have to go kamikaze – and I’m not talking about the drink.

After six tedious hours, their shopping strategy, tactics and re-con were locked and loaded. (I may have caught my dad Googling “How to make your own Napalm” or it could have been porn -- I’m not sure which is more disturbing.) They had newspaper circulars spread out over the tables, dossiers with store hours, maps where they’d spend the night on site, contact numbers if additional troops were required and they even handed out provisions and MRE’s. If the US government had an attack and exit strategy half as detailed, we would’ve been out of Iraq years ago.

I’m not going shopping this morning, nor will I go anywhere near a Toys R Us, Target or Walmart because the people coming out of those stores will be in the throws of Zhu Zhu pet victory or suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. I’m grateful for black Friday because there will be great sales, and I can do all of my shopping the way God and nature intended, hung-over and on-line.

That’s why I’m grateful for black Friday.