My mom, Patricia, has a little bookshop that she runs. It's mostly a volunteer organization, and I end up "volunteering" a lot when there's no other option. Like, for instance, Christmas eve, where I end up falling asleep over a cash register at 12:30.

Here's my letter of complaint to Whines, because he thought I should post this--

'Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the shop
Not a creature was stirring,
'cause retail should stop

On the evening before
A major holiday,
Which wouldn't stop Patti,
That isn't her way.

The shop should stay open!
She said, with a smile,
I'll never stop vending,
That's why I have a child!

My son will sell bibles,
I'll make him arrive
At St. David's Bookshop,
And then I'll leave at five.

For Christmas, she said,
Is a time we should savor,
The gifts of the season,
And unpaid slave labor.