Black Thursday? Stop. Don't do it. I beg you.

Chiara came home from school yesterday and announced: "I'm going to the mall on Black Friday." Before I could even get past my stunned silence to choke out a response,  Olivia said, with some sadness, I must admit (because there's nothing she loves more than shopping): "We don't even go to the mall on regular days, why would we go on Black Friday?"

Precisely. I am anti-mall on any day. I just don't enjoy it. When I make a trip to the mall, I'm like a Navy Seal, going after my target and high-tailing it out of there as quickly as possible. Window shopping has never been my thing. But the thought of Black Friday at the mall sends shivers up my spine. The parking. The pushing. The same old stuff repackaged and repriced and shoved down our throats by desperate retailers. Ugh.

Then this week came the news that Black Friday wasn't enough; some of us apparently need Black Thursday. What gift could possibly be so important, so necessary that it would lure you away from your Thanksgiving festivities -- and all that delicious stuffing -- so you can stand on line for one more must-have whatever? I'm sorry but this sort of thing makes me beyond depressed. I hate to sound like an old person, but our world seems to be going to hell in a handbasket -- or an oversized reusable green shopping bag.

Please don't go shopping on Thanksgiving. I beg you. Please stay home with your family, and, if by some chance you don't have a family and are going to be spending the holiday alone, come over here. Seriously. We'll save you from shopping-at-all-costs. I cannot stand the thought of one NSS reader standing in line at Best Buy on Thanksgiving.

You have enough. You are enough. Nothing they're selling is worth your soul.

Maybe that's too dramatic. Maybe picking up a really cheap blouse isn't going to cost you your soul. Then again, maybe it will cost you a tiny little sliver of it. And what about all those people who have to go to work or lose their jobs so the rest of us can fill our closets with more stuff? Think about them.

Don't do it. Put on "It's a Wonderful Life" after dinner, gather the people you love around you, and just  be thankful for what's in your life right now. And I'll try to do the same, even if the house isn't as perfect as I'd like it to be for all our guests, even if the mashed potatoes are done way before the turkey is sliced, even if my youngest child thinks Black Friday is a holiday worth celebrating. It's a wonderful life, no further accessories required.