The Tale of the Tinsel Llama

It began with a weblink. No words, no explanation, no introduction. Because none were needed. My friend Robyn was certain I would know what to do when she sent me this:

I quickly replied:

OMG! I just showed it to Rob with great enthusiasm!! His response: "I used to like her." 

Lucky for me, I have my own credit card. Hahahahaha!!

Because I have an amiable husband who has resigned himself to a life decorated with llamas, within a few hours I had swiftly negotiated the agreement of acquiring TWO Tinsel Llamas to bring sparkly holiday camelid spirit to our front porch.

Figuring I would just order them online from Target, what with their free shipping and conveniently fast delivery, I jumped on their website only to discover several arresting facts:

1. The Tinsel Llama is not available for shipping. It must be acquired in person and picked up at the store.
2. My most proximate Target (17 miles away) was the only one – THE ONLY ONE – in the entire Portland metro with any Tinsel Llamas in stock. Specially, they warned “Limited stock.”
3. The Portland Metro = within 100 miles of Woodhaven.
4. The Tinsel Llama is a Target exclusive.

With a totally justified sense of urgency, Rob and I dashed to Target as soon as the Seahawks game was over (hey, I do have other obsessions). As Rob drove, my fancypants smartphone confirmed that our targeted Target still had “Limited stock.” I breathed easier because who knew what other llama freaks (Shannon) might be swopping in.

We arrived at the store, trotted to the back corner, and deftly located a Tinsel Llama on display. It was even more adorable in person. The socks alone! Daaaawww! They were like little llama legwarmers from the '80s!

I only dreamed of being this fashionable in 1982.

Pawing through the boxes, we found Tinsel Foxes and Tinsel Mooses and Tinsel Wiener Dogs. Alas no Tinsel Llamas.

Rob hunted down a woman sporting a red polo, khaki pants, and the all-important Walkie-Talkie Scanner Gizmo.

Despite the website’s claim to the contrary, the employee apologetically confirmed the store did not have any Tinsel Llamas in stock. I thought everything on the internet was true. Fie on you, internet!

The nice khakied lady checked and double checked and summoned her manager at our request. Mr. Manager wouldn’t budge from the store policy not to sell display units. Something about liability issues.

I bargained with the manager, quietly fingering the zip ties that were holding my Tinsel Llama hostage on the shelving unit.

“What if we agreed to sign something that said we release you and Target from any responsibility for any injuries that might come from the Tinsel Llama?”

“No. Sorry. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

To his credit, Mr. Manager Man maintained only a slightly exasperated, disinterested tone in the face of my llama zeal. Sadly, I doubt even trying to name drop by wearing my Rojo the Llama t-shirt would have helped my case. In fact, I sort of got the sense that might have only added to the manager’s not-quite-amused eye rolling.

My Tinsel Llama dreams dashed, I moped back to the car. On the way home, Rob and I both had the same idea.

Back at Woodhaven, we started punching zip codes of family members into the Target search field. Although no Tinsel Llamas were to be found near my family in Idaho, there was ONE left in a store about 15 minutes from Rob’s family in Southern California. OMG!!

At 7:30pm, I sent my mom-in-law a text explaining the dire circumstances and asking if I were to buy the ONE REMAINING Tinsel Llama in Orange County, would she and Dad be willing to go pick it up and ship it to me. I included this photo from the display at my Target so that she could fully appreciate the intensity of the situation.

Irresistible, right??

One hour and three agonizing minutes later, I got a text back that said, “Yes, we can do that.”

Hallelujah!! I clicked the “Purchase” button that my finger had been hovering over for about an hour. I then anxiously awaited a confirmation email that my order was ready to be picked up.

At 8:44am the next morning, I sent Nancy the heartbreaking news.

Not only did I get an email that the ONE REMAINING Tinsel Llama was no longer available at the Orange County store, my replacement order at a different store an hour away (Rob assured me it wasn’t too far – his dad loves to drive?) had already been cancelled because the internet lied AGAIN.

“I guess it wasn’t meant to find a home on our porch after all.”

Sad emoji.

After I thanked my most awesome in-laws for their willingness to be a part of my goofy llama quest, I found myself back on the Target website with my address book in hand.

Have no doubt, if I know your zip code and I thought there was the barest of possibilities I could bribe you into driving to a Target to pick up a llama lawn ornament, I checked all Targets within an hour’s drive of your house.

No Tinsel Llamas were to be found in certain parts of Texas. Or Indiana. Or Virginia. Or Iowa. Or Montana. Or Wyoming. Or Northern California. Or Arizona. Or North Dakota. Or Pennsylvania. Or Minnesota.

I did find THREE in a Target outside of Boston. I was ecstatic until I Googled the driving distances from the houses of my three Massachusetts friends. With the infamously bad Boston traffic, the small herd of Tinsel Llamas was at least 2 hours away from any of my Beantown friends. BOO!!!

At this point I decided it was best to accept reality. I busied myself with laundry as I tried to bat away visions of Tinsel Llamas dancing on our porch.

At 3:19pm, I received this text from Rob’s dad:

I sent him a selfie from our laundry room to speak the thousand words of my emotional state.

Yes, that is a Fa La La La Llama t-shirt.

Feeling only slightly guilty for being greedy, I texted back: “I have been given clearance to acquire two of them. Is there by any chance more than one there??”

“Not at this store,” Dad replied.

I assured him one was plenty and I danced victoriously amongst my lights and darks.

A mere 35 minutes later, the Best Father-in-Law in the World texted me this photo with the caption “Motto: The difficult gets done immediately… the impossible takes an hour or so longer. Love, Dad.”

This is now my most favorite picture of
my father-in-law EVER. Not just because there
are llamas in it but because Dad was
willing to go in search of them for me. ❤

I screamed. I startled the cats. And I called my amazing father-in-law and left a high-pitched, squeaky, hyperventilating voicemail informing Dad he is magical and wondering if he might be in Boston because by my in-depth research, that was the only location in North America with at least two Tinsel Llamas lurking about.

Dad has yet to reveal where or how exactly he accomplished the impossible. I suspect he never will. All I know is two boxes arrived at Woodhaven very recently. With some assembly required and la-la-la-la-la "I didn't read that part" warnings about the llamas not being toys and should not be played with, we now have two adorable Tinsel Llamas and one VERY HAPPY llama lover still giggling with joy.

The Story of the Tinsel Llamas (plural because there are TWO OF THEM!) will henceforth be added to the lore that is the legacy of the best father-in-law to ever walk the planet.

Who's the luckiest llama lady ever? Me!
Thank you, Dad and Nancy -- you guys are the BEST!!!