When I was 8 I didn't get a Barbie for Christmas.
The parents that I thought loved me, didn't bring Diva from Barbie and the Rockers, the Barbie I had asked for over and over and over again.
No, they bought me Skipper--Barbie's lame-A friend.
Can you imagine the utter despair and heartache I felt? The disappointment? The near-end-of-the-world-ness?
That wrenching feeling still haunts my heart even now.
I smiled to hide the frown. (Lie)
I shed no tears. (Bigger LIE)
And not once did I speak of the pain in my heart. (Truth. I didn't complain once. I spilled my grievances until those parents caved.) My sadness must've been apparent despite how I tried to hide my disappointment.
Imagine my surprise when my mom said, "I know your birthday is in a few days, but would you like your present now?"
The tears vanished. "Yes. Now!" I
Mom returned with a massive box.
I'll admit I wasn't thrilled. Clearly it wasn't Diva. But as I peeled away the layers of wrapping paper, I saw that the present was even better. My parents loved me after all! They gave me the three-story barbie mansion, complete with the pink convertible car for Barbie and Ken. Life was good. A mansion was better than Diva. I was happy.
And now my secret is: I always want my birthday presents early. I wan't them NOW!
Not on the day of my actual birthday. That would be late.
And since I'm spilling secrets, I might as well tell you that I convinced my mom to hand over my presents yesterday. That's right, folks. One white-haired woman down, the rest of you all to go. So if you have a present for me, I WANT IT NOW!