My family can't wait for midnight. They have a plan for Black Friday shopping tonight that includes hitting Toys'R'Us then eating a 2 a.m. breakfast and continuing the shopping when more stores open at 3 or 4 o'clock.
The hunter-gatherer instinct that's evolved into shopping for crap takes over each family member. And they drive around buying things that they don't yet know what they will be: whatever looks good on 4 hours of sleep and a belly-full of pancakes.
So they will race around in a carb-loaded stupor and cheer at each item they get into their carts. And when they get home, they will unload their treasures and collapse into exhaustion, sated for another year. The gifts, oh, the gifts.
And no one seems to acknowledge the real truth: Hey, dummy, those aren't gifts; you paid for that crap.
But it's okay; it's Christmas, Part One.