Black Friday is chaos for everyone—customers rushing for deals, warehouses scrambling to ship, support teams fielding urgent messages. But among the hundreds of orders that flooded our system in late October, one stood out: a $120 SUPUZZ kids table and chair set, destined for Nigeria.
The customer, Mark, was a U.S.-based engineer. His note was simple: "This is a Thanksgiving gift for kids—for a friend. She's back home in Lagos with her 4-year-old. Please prioritize if possible."
We wish we could've. But the kids table set was on pre-order—our new adjustable-height model, launching just after Black Friday. And shipping to Nigeria? Even in the best cases, it's a 2-3 week journey. Mark would be waiting at least a month.
"I'll Wait. She's Worth It."
Our support team reached out to explain the delay. Black Friday backlogs, pre-order stock, international customs—we listed every reason it might take 30+ days. We even offered a refund or a faster-shipping alternative.
Mark's reply? "No rush. She's my former coworker—we pulled all-nighters on projects, survived impossible deadlines. She moved back to Nigeria last year, and I miss her. This kids furniture gift is for her daughter, but it's really for her. Tell me when it ships. I'll wait."
As someone who builds products for families, I'm used to hearing about "important gifts." But this? A month-long wait, during the busiest shopping season, for a kids table and chair set? It felt different. I found myself checking his order status weekly, wondering: What kind of bond makes someone that patient?
The 30-Day Journey
Mark selects the blue SUPUZZ table set, adds a note: "For Amara's little one. Tell her it's from the guy who owes her 17 coffee runs."
Our warehouse clears the backlog—Mark's kids table set is on its way to the port. He emails: "Thanks for the update. I told Amara to expect a surprise, but not when."
Nigeria's customs hold the package. Mark messages: "No stress. I've been texting her about her daughter's new preschool—she's too busy to ask."
31 days after ordering, the kids table and chair set arrives. Mark gets a photo from Amara—and forwards it to us.
"It's Not Just a Table."
The photo said it all: A little girl in pigtails, grinning as she traced shapes on the kids table with a crayon. Amara had added a sticky note in the corner: "He remembers I hate wobbly furniture. This thing is solid. Thank you, Mark—for not forgetting us."
"We worked together for 3 years, but distance doesn't erase that. The kids table set is perfect, but knowing he waited a month? That's the gift. It says 'You matter enough to be patient for.'"
As a brand builder, I spend most days obsessing over hinges and height adjusters—making sure our kids furniture is sturdy enough for kids. But Mark's story hit different. He didn't care about the table's specs. He cared that it would last, because his friendship with Amara was built to last too.
That's the part no product spec can capture: The way a kids table and chair set becomes a symbol of something bigger. A reminder that across time zones, busy seasons, and 30-day waits, some connections are worth every second.
This Thanksgiving, we're grateful for customers like Mark. Not just for buying our kids table sets, but for reminding us why we build them—to be part of stories that matter, long after the shipping label fades.