Yesterday was a PD day for the public school system. Which means, the Captain was at home all day. More importantly, it means that the two pre-teen boys who live on my street who deliver the Flyer Force were home all day. Which means, we got our Flyer Force flyers on Friday, instead of the usual Saturday.

A mere five years ago, I used to curse the arrival of the enormous packet of flyers on our front porch each weekend. I wanted to put our black box right there on the porch, with a big Scrooge-ish sign that told delivery persons to just deposit their ads directly into our recycling box. It would have saved having to listen to me grumble as I made the long, hard, terrible three-step journey from front door to garbage door, to put them in the recycling myself. We never opened the pack, never looked at anything in there. If we needed something, I’d just go get it…who cared about what the stores were trying to push on us?

These days I await the arrival of the flyer pack with baited breath. The Flyer Force, who puts together the set, sometimes calls to check to see if we are getting our delivery, and I proudly say, “Yes! And Thank You!” When we first moved to our new house, there was no delivery person for our area, and I actually called to complain…and for a moment, even considered taking the job myself. I must have my flyers!

Naturally I blame the children. Shopping for all that baby stuff — strollers, cribs, adorable teeny tiny socks — made me suddenly interested in the concept of “sale.” Now that we have three, we’re always interested in saving money. The flyers allow me to comparison shop from home without having to shlep our kids around to five different stores. I’m a coupon-clipping, loss-leader shopping momma. Which is why it’s such a big deal that the boys brought our flyers yesterday. Usually they don’t get around to delivering them until Saturday afternoon, and since the sale prices in the flyers start on Friday evenings, by the time we’re aware that a bargain is out there, all the really awesome deals are gone.

It’s more than just the dollars and sense, though. Every year when the Sears Christmas Wish Book arrived at our house in Cambridge, I’d go through it page by page and imagine the shopping. Oh, the shopping! Every page would be carefully studied while I picked out what stuff I’d get if only I had millions and millions of dollars. I think the weekend flyers are kind of like that — a little bit of Christmas Wish Book in a weekly package. I’m like Scrooge on Christmas morning — completely converted and giddy as a schoolboy!