We were brave and took on the pre-holiday crowd yesterday at the mall, where Williams-Sonoma can be found. 

We said the hell with it, and did Valet.  I wasn't about to circle the lot for an hour, or follow people to their car.  I didn't want to feel the desperation of the holiday season yet...I still feel somewhere in my soul that I have time to get gifts for the kids that aren't the second-rate leftovers.  I'll probably end up doing it all online anyway.

However, I was starting to feel the pressure.  The pressure of little elves breathing down my neck, saying surreptitiously "If you don't load your cart with shiny, pricey gifts for your children now, other parents will buy them - you don't want your child to cry tears of disappointment Christmas morning do you?  Hand over your credit card or your failure as a parent will be revealed, the hearts of your children broken."

I can feel the madness of the season bearing down on me.  We wait in line to see Santa for only fifteen minutes, not so bad.  Catch a break there.  Two out of three kids smile in the picture with Santa, I can live with that.  My mom (Grandma) slips Santa's little helper five bucks and we get extra photos because we gave the poor high school kid some cash for a Doppio at Starbucks.

After we get the baby back in the stroller and the kids have put their fingerprints all over the photos with Santa, we make our way to Williams-Sonoma.

Salvation.

The store smells like stuffing, gravy, and Butternut Squash Bisque.  Thank you, thank you, Universe for giving me what I needed, and in a timely manner.  Samples of the stuffing with gravy and the bisque are on the counter - I take five.  Is that a problem?  The people who work there, stylish women and savvy men tell me to take as many samples as I wish.  Yes, the despertaion shows on my face.  Thank heavens we didn't stop at the makeup counter at Nordstrom first.

The baby, a hungry fourteen month old who can smell food near like a pig sniffs out truffles, starts grunting when I consume the samples before offering her any.  My mom gets in line withe the gravy base and three boxes of W-S's focaccia stuffing (it has lavender listed in the ingredients, oh..my heart is singing) and I kneel in front of the stroller to feed the baby.  Okay, I'll share.

My son asks for his first set of paring knives, insisting that because the wooden handles are primary colors of blue, red and green that they are for kids.  I can't resist such a creative argument for culinary advancement.  "Take them to Grandma in line."

"Why three boxes of stuffing, Sam?" asks my mom.  "For leftovers, of course."

We leave Williams-Sonoma with amber colored turkey candle holders, ivory colored taper candles, gravy base, and focaccia stuffing with herbs de provence.  Because that stuffing is better than anything I could make.  I have spent the last ten years trying different from-scratch stuffing recipes from Gourmet and Bon Appetit.  Nothing comes close to doctoring up stuffing in a box.  And I don't think this stuffing will need much doctoring up at all - maybe some celery and mushrooms.  Definitely nothing sun-dried.  I am over that.   Take me back to age ten, before the onslaught of dehydrated vegetables  in stuffing.  I want ot the way it used to be.  And I want it all to myself.

Is that a problem?