When it comes to shopping, I used to be an All Star. For me, there was no better place than the mall. It got to the point someone who worked at the mall in Birmingham asked me which store I worked at.

I guess I was just there a lot.

For a shop-aholic such as myself, there is no better time than the day after Thanksgiving. It’s sort of the Super Bowl of shopping and, for the women in my family, it’s typically a big, big day.

We used to leave the house at 5 a.m. and not come back until 9 or 10 p.m. We had to take multiple cars just to get all the packages back home.

A couple of years ago, things seemed to have change, however. You can trace it back about two years, the Christmas after Sutton was born. That year, I chalked my lack of shopping ardor back to simple exhaustion. I figured things would get back to normal once I slept more than four hours at a stretch.

At the start of this year’s discussion of our post-Thanksgiving shopping, I was fired up. I’m getting a little more sleep this year, so I thought I would be back to my top form.

I was wrong. Sure, I made it OK through the pre-planning, the sorting of coupons, making my list, planning our route. And, yes, I was pretty good through the morning hours, picking up some good bargains and handling multiple shopping bags. It was after lunch, however, that I started feeling the pinch.

“I’m going to go and wait for you all over here,” I said, heading towards some massaging chairs grouped in the center of a store.

I joined a group of men, all of whom looked as tired as I did.

The other women in my family finished and headed my way.

“About ready to go home?” I said.

They just stared at me. They then turned and went back to shopping.

I did manage to keep going, making it through a few more stores and a few more hours. By the time I made it back to the house, I was so tired I could barely walk.

“How did Shop-A-Rama go?” asked Greg, who’d been home all day with Sutton and was pretty tired himself.

“I got most everything done,” I replied. “But I just don’t have it in me anymore. It wore me out.”

Is it time to hang up my shopping shoes? Perhaps I should just bronze them and start ordering everything online. It’s best to go out on top, after all.