Soothing Saturday: Live from the Christmas Shopping Derby
Soothing Saturday — is my little corner for slowing down and stepping away from my usual genealogy deep dives. Think of it as a gentle exhale at the end of the week — a space for reflections, small joys, and simple stories written just for the pleasure of it.
Join me for this week’s Soothing Saturday, live from the front lines of the Christmas Shopping Derby.
Saturday mornings are meant for peace. Coffee. Maybe a lazy scroll through news I’ll forget in ten minutes.
Not for putting on shoes and braving the elements.
But this morning, just as I was settling into that second cup of calm, I heard the words no man wants to hear in December:
“We should go into town and get some Christmas shopping done.”
Ah yes. The annual test of endurance and marriage coordination. If anything can test the strength of our marriage bond, it’s navigating a Christmas mall together while sharing one shopping list and zero patience.
I tried a few diversion tactics.
“Couldn’t we just order everything online?” I ventured.
She smiled — the kind of smile that said, “That’s adorable. Get your jacket.”
The weather was in full Norwegian December mode — a blend of drizzle, sideways wind, and just enough sleet to make you question your life choices.
By the time we reached the mall, the parking lot already looked like a post-apocalyptic car park.
I circled twice before we found a space that might technically be a bush.
As we stepped inside, the noise hit — a wall of jingling bells, chatter, and something that made me think Mariah Carey had decided to visit our small Norwegian town, bringing all her Christmas spirit with her.
And that’s when it happened. My brain switched into radio commentator mode.
🎙️ “And we’re live from the Christmas Shopping Arena here in downtown Molde, where the crowds are thick, the patience is thin, and there’s been an incident involving a trolley and a misplaced sense of Christmas spirit!”
Inside, it was pure chaos.
Shoppers darted around like midfielders on a muddy pitch, all chasing the same discounted candle set.
Somewhere in the distance, a child was crying — possibly in despair, possibly because they’d been denied their fifth chocolate sample.
I turn a corner and — bang! — collide headfirst with a man pushing a trolley stacked higher than a Norwegian snowdrift.
The impact sends a roll of wrapping paper flying through the air like a rogue javelin.
🎙️ “Oh, and there’s a flag on the play! We’ve got a trolley foul in aisle three — wrapping paper interference and a possible verbal warning for unsportsmanlike muttering. The referee’s pretending not to notice, folks, but tensions are high here at the Christmas Shopping Derby!”
The other shopper gives me a knowing nod — the kind that says, “We’ve both seen too much.”
I retrieve the runaway wrapping paper, straighten my jacket, and limp heroically onward.
I try to keep up with Inger Lise, who moves through the crowd with the precision of a seasoned striker. She’s not particularly tall, so every now and then I lose sight of her between puffer jackets and shopping bags. But like a determined midfielder, she reappears three aisles over, triumphantly holding something wrapped in tissue paper.
At one point, I stop to take in the madness — the flashing lights, the queues, the smell of Julegløgg (mulled non-alcoholic wine) mingling with perfume samples.
🎙️ “And here comes Martin, looking uncertain. He’s entered the gift shop section — bold move! Oh, but what’s this? He’s picked up a snow globe and immediately regretted it. Classic rookie error!”
The electronics store is my downfall.
A thousand flashing screens, sale signs everywhere, and a soundtrack that could be used for psychological warfare.
🎙️ “And there’s a substitution on the field — Martin’s been replaced by a confused man holding a coffee and staring blankly at Bluetooth speakers. We’re deep into extra time now, folks!”
Three hours later, I’m running on fumes and one half-eaten gingerbread man.
Inger Lise announces cheerfully that she’s “almost done,” which, as any married man knows, means “We’ve still got at least four more shops to go.”
Finally, we stagger back to the car — bags everywhere, both of us steaming slightly like overworked reindeer.
I feel like I’ve just played a full match in heavy snow — and lost.
But then, as we drive home through twinkling lights and the smell of Christmas fills the air, I can’t help but smile.
The chaos, the crowds, the commentary — it’s all part of the season.
And soon, we’ll be home with coffee and slippers, the world quiet again.
🎙️ “And that’s full-time here at the Christmas Shopping Derby. Martin survives with his dignity mostly intact, his wallet slightly lighter, and his marriage still in the lead. Back to you in the studio.”
Until next time — may your coffee be warm, your records be legible, and your heart find a reason to smile. Have a great weekend!
I always had to laugh when my husband used to say, “Yes, dear.” Your story hits the mark–great picture too!
Hello Joan
Thank you so much for your kind comment. The story might be a little exaggerated, but that’s my privilege when trying to be funny. 🙂
What a GEM! I have realized the world is exactly the same at this point in time….the Christmas Shopping Derby, regardless of our many other cultural differences. Good on you to relate the Mall activity to a favorite sporting event. The field side commentary is priceless! Thanks, Martin, for the excellent choice of words. May your Season of Light be bright. Merry Christmas from the States to both you and Inger Lise.
Hello Tom
Thank you so much for this kind comment! Yes, it really does feel like the Christmas Shopping Derby is the same all over the world – just with different accents and weather reports. I’m glad you enjoyed the “field commentary”; it’s my way of surviving the chaos with a bit of humour.
Inger Lise and I send warm greetings right back across the ocean – may your Season of Light be peaceful and bright. Merry Christmas from Norway to you and yours! ✨
Martin