Saturday, December 18, 2010

‘Tis the Season of Disillusionment and Squandered Dreams.

As a little girl, I was always kind of sensitive and anxious and didn’t really like to be away from my mom’s side for very long. 
One year, a few weeks before Christmas, my dad was out of town so my mom had to do all of the shopping herself. She was about to leave me in the care of my big brother and sister--which was in and of itself enough to scare the pants off of any child. These were the people that had once tied me up inside of a laundry basket and left me there, and had also at another time nearly blinded me with bathroom cleaner spray...and let’s not forget the time they slammed my finger in a door hinge!!! But I digress.
I really didn’t want my mom to leave that day, so I kind of threw a nasty fit that was probably inappropriate for my age. I really don’t remember how old I was, but I was probably just a little bit older than I would admit if I did.

My mom quickly got fed up with my amazing display of drama, and burst out with,

**picture of my mom that doesn't really look like my mom.

She went on with, "Do you know how your presents get under the tree? I put them there!! And the only way for you to get presents this year is for you to shut up and let me go shopping RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!"
My mom tells me this  story every year, despite the fact that I remember it quite vividly without her help.
Bah humbug.
Happy Christmas, everyone.