Age: 7
It was Christmastime again- a time of happiness, glory, and my trademark red, velvet velour Holiday Dress. I wore that dress for years, thinking it was the fanciest thing around. When it was time to break out that dress again, I knew I would soon be eating delicious food, leaving out cookies for Santa (and carrots for the reindeer, of course), and opening presents.
When I was little, the exact presents I got weren't that important. Does anyone remember those old Sears catalogs they sent out around September? The ones with about 5 million pages of toys inside? That catalog was likely the most favorite magazine of my years, until I discovered the humor of my friend's Cosmos. Each year, I would go through each and every page of that catalog and make my Christmas list. It took me many years to realize that if I gave my mom Santa a 7 page long Christmas list, I probably wouldn't be opening any of the items on there come December 25th (even the Easy Bake Oven that made my number 1 slot for 4 years running).
As you can see, I didn't really care what present I would get- I just wanted presents. Presents in any shape or form were good, but I always knew that bigger meant better. Right? At 7 years old with only a few years experience under my belt, that was the rule I lived by.
Christmas morning rolled around, and the living room had been visited during the night- I was sure of it. There was a giant mound of presents, the stockings were stuffed, and some of the cookies/carrots eaten. We weren't really allowed into the room yet, but I noticed a very large box sitting center stage in front of the tree. This box was almost the size of my body. I walked towards it, and lo and behold my name was on it. Not only that- but the tag read:
To: Katy
From: Evan, Clark, and Blake
Was this real? Were my 3 older, horrible, mean brothers giving me a giant gift? This couldn't be! Maybe they did what everyone always told me they would do- they would grow up and come around, and be amazing older brothers. It was finally my chance. I was finally being appreciated. I was in the Heaven of all Christmas mornings.
Each year we traded off where we did Christmas first. Unfortunately, this year we were spending the morning at my Grandma's house down the street. I loved my Grandma and spent just about every day over there, but I could not stop thinking about that giant beacon of a present sitting underneath our Christmas Tree. Through lots of presents and a fantastic meal, I couldn't stop thinking about that giant present with my name on it. I was ecstatic when it was time to head back down the street to our house so that we could open our presents.
I remember it so perfectly. The sky had already turned dark, since we were in those short winter days. We had opened some smaller presents, and then it was finally my turn to open what I had been thinking about all day. The whole day I had fantasized about the possibilities, but never came up with a prediction on what it actually was. When I got to the box, I tried to move it a little when I noticed that it was really heavy. The best just got better, I thought. As I unwrapped the box, I could hardly contain my 7-year-old self. I opened the box, and I first saw wadded up newspaper, a common present-box stuffer in my family. I start taking out the newspaper, and realize that the newspaper goes much deeper than I expected. But there has to be a present- why else would the box be so heavy?
And then I saw it. Them. There were 3 bricks placed in the bottom of the box. It took me one second to realize that I had been scammed, yet again. Think of a giant hot air balloon that has a cannon shot through it- that was how I felt. Upon my discovery, I was told/received a note that said, "These are so that you can start building your house now- maybe you will have a shack to live in by the time you are old." They always had a running joke that I would be living in a box- a box they were so kind to give me and let me live in outside their mansions.
Fortunately, it looks like the tables have turned and I will be the one living in a "mansion." I found out from my father recently that he had seen the box and saw them acting sneakily. Apparently he threatened them because he knew they were plotting against me yet again.
We actually still have those bricks, laying in the closet of my old room. I think their may be a re-gifting occurring next Christmas.
;)
No comments:
Post a Comment