You know why I love the internet? I mean other than the fact that it’s possible to spend an entire afternoon watching videos of squirrels dancing to Michael Jackson songs?
(Do not judge me. I was merely searching for things that might bring Caroline some amusement while we spend our evenings gathered around the computer in front of the fireplace just like the Waltons.)
I love that almost every comment from yesterday validated my use of all the words to tell of all the nothing. And so, while I didn’t get too many (or any) orders for my custom-made potholders (coasters? Barbie rugs?), I am secure in knowing that at least some of you don’t mind that I wouldn’t know succinct if it was a dancing squirrel on the internet.
Speaking of rodents, I have a big announcement to make. Santa Claus has secured a Zhu Zhu Pet for Caroline, complete with a hamster house.
I received so many emails informing me of Zhu Zhu Pet sightings at Cracker Barrel, CVS, and even a gas station in Louisiana. Apparently, Toys ‘R Us handed out golden tickets, like some kind of whacked out Willy Wonka, that could be exchanged for a Zhu Zhu Pet at approximately 4 a.m. when the stars aligned perfectly with Saturn or whatever.
It all seemed very mysterious and began to remind me of an old episode of 90210 where Donna and David hear about some super-cool party, but they can only find the location if they take an egg to a convenience store. Did I just make that up or was that an actual episode? And, if so, why did I spend such a good portion of the early 90’s watching a T.V. show with such stupid plot lines?
Says the girl addicted to BravoTV.
Anyway, after I wrote about my quest for the Zhu Zhu and read all the comments that basically said, “Yeah, good luck with that”, I reminded myself that the Christmas season isn’t about the giving and receiving of fake hamsters, took a deep breath and decided that if we were meant to bring home Mr. Squiggles or Num Nums that it would happen.
That calm, peaceful feeling lasted all of two seconds and then the crazy lady inside me who could use a hobby took over. I got on Amazon.com to purchase a Zhu Zhu Pet at a slight markup just in case of emergency. In the words of one commenter, I’d spend at least that much money on gas driving all over town to various Walmarts.
So I bought Chunk because he was the cheapest of the overpriced hamsters. Apparently Chunk, with his white synthetic fur coat, isn’t nearly as desirable as Mr. Squiggles and his realistic tawny coloring that makes him look exactly like a real hamster if real hamsters had wheels instead of paws.
But then I received a fortuitous email from a reader named Stephanie who’d had the foresight to purchase four Zhu Zhu Pets several months ago and only needed three. She said she’d love to send me the extra one in exchange for the $8.00 plus shipping cost, which, YES PLEASE. Anything to save me from being trampled in Walmart and being the subject of an embarrassing headline in the newspaper that would probably read:
“ACCOMPLISHED POTHOLDER WEAVER INJURED IN ZHU ZHU RAMPAGE”
I received Stephanie’s package in the mail the same day I received my package from Amazon. We are currently the proud owners of two Chunks, but not for long since I’m sending the overpriced one back to the land of greedy, price-gougers from whence he came.
To be honest, I thought about keeping them both and giving Caroline a litter of white hamsters for Christmas, but P and I were sitting around with my family after Thanksgiving lunch and my sister asked if I was going to head out to Walmart at the crack of awful to look for a Zhu Zhu. I told her my whole story and that I now had not one BUT TWO Zhu Zhus.
P looked at me from across the room and asked, “How much did you pay for that Zhu Zhu Pet from Amazon?”
“Well, it retails for $8.00.”
“That’s not what I asked. How much did you pay?”
(Dang. He has known me too long.)
“It doesn’t matter because I’m sending it back.”
(Which I wasn’t actually going to do, but I threw it out there because it was better than the shame of admitting in front of my whole family that I’d bought an overpriced hamster and I knew that’s where the conversation was headed. ABORT. ABORT.)
So there will be no family of Zhu Zhus on Christmas morning, but we’ll have a solitary Chunk, complete with hamster house (I bought it off Ebay. It retails for $21.00!), and an exercise wheel.
And I may even weave him a tiny bed with my loom.