I'm sitting here this morning in my sock-monkey pajamas thinking about how quickly the Christmas holiday just disappeared. Like a match, beautiful and hot, full of color and just as quickly as it came it faded to a small flame, to smoke and then just a memory.

In the buildup to Christmas day, while everyone is running around I always make it a point to stop in to two of our local $1 stores. They always have such a curious array of goods.

I would say that 90% of the wares are absolute junk, 6% of the rest of the stuff is marginally sort of okay and you might buy it simply because its a dollar, 3% of the remainder of that is good stuff like tissue paper, baskets, gift bags but that very last remaining 1%... this is why I love the dollar store. This last 1%, not unlike the rest of the 1%-ers of the world... is the stuff of legend.

BEHOLD!
Gaze upon its brown, baldy goodness. What's that? Why, yes! Yes, that's right. It IS Michael Jordan Space Jam bubblegum.

Naturally, when one stumbles upon such an item, you dare not pass it by. The chances of it crossing your path yet again in this lifetime are slim. I stood there momentarily looking down on his chocolatey dome and thought to myself, 'Don't let Michael be the one that got away.' A life of regret? I proudly say, 'no thanks.' I took Michael and made my way to the checkout and gently placed him on the counter.

 'No. No, don't buy dis,' the cashier says to me, peering around behind her to see who is listening.

  'What? Why not?' I say increadulously.

I must admit I was a little caught off guard. Why on earth would this lady want to keep me from the Space Jamming goodness that lay beyond Michael's gentle smile? As she leans closer to me from across the formica barrier, she quietly says this time more urgently,
 
 'No, don't buy dis. We have dis for years. YEARS!'

Well gosh, lady. If you didn't want me to buy this you certainly can't entice me with such a curiosity bating statement like that! Ignoring her warning, I paid for my Space Jam bubble gum and went merrily on my way.

As the day wore on at home and I began to unpack my loot from my shopping excursion, I proudly showed my dear boyfriend my little brown treasure.
 
 'What the hell is that?' he says.

  'It's Michael Jordan! I got it at the dollar store. Isn't that awesome?' I wriggled with glee.

 'Uhhh. Yeah. What does that say on the bottom?' he squints.

  'Space Jam,' I say.

 'Exactly how old is that?' Kenny scrunches his brow and looks at me quizzically.

  'I don't know. Let me see... hmm, I can't find the... 1996!' I say in delight.

 'Hmm. Ok. What are you going to do with it?' he asks.

  'Give it to someone. Its like.. an antique,' I say and laugh with a cackle.

 'Someone is going to get sick. You're crazy.'

Well DUH! Boys. Pfft.

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