Christmas 1997 and an excited Watkinson lay’s in bed waiting anxiously for the rest of the house hold to wake up. That’s what you did at my house at Christmas time. Everyone in the house had to be awake before you could open your presents. I was the youngest child by ten years, so I was forever the first one awake and the first one waiting. My usual routine was to be awake at 5 o’clock in the morning and wake everyone up in the house so I could open my presents. This year I had decided to stay in bed. Mainly because my eldest brother had told me I would cop it if I woke him up this year. So fear kept me in bed and in bed I stayed.
There I lay, waiting. What was in that beautiful red pillow case? I had dreams of a Nintendo or Sega, but I knew was far from the case. It was never the case. As I grew older I learnt it would never be the case. You don’t get expensive presents in my house; you get lots of smaller ones that equal the same amount. My mother seems to have an issue with one large present, I think it’s because the Santa sack doesn’t look as jumbled. I was 6 at the time I think, but I had long known about the deal with Santa, you know the one how he’s not real. It’s actually your parents buying the stuff. When you have older brothers, nothing is sacred. While we’re on the subject, does anyone else have an issue with parents starting your life with lies? Yes I understand it’s supposed harmless, and it’s all about getting into the spirit. But I crushed a few kids in the playground by telling them the truth. Perhaps it’s how we teach our children to deal with disappointment?
Anyway, I knew where the good stuff came from anyway. Leading up Christmas I would write lists of what I wanted and leave laying around strategically. Like on Mum’s bed or next to the TV remote. You know, real subtle like. X-Men action figures, Lego, Toxic Avenger, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles… the list really does go on and on.
And there I lay. I pictured a full set of the X-Men and envisioned them all lined up on my desk like an army. I saw a Lego fortresses squaring off for a battle of epic proportions. It was almost too much for me to handle. But then I heard it. Someone else was awake. As nimble as a cat I leapt out of bed to see who it was. Just my parents, but I could hear my brothers talking to each other. This was it! Truly the best thing about Christmas for a 6 year old was present time. Rushed to the lounge room and sat next to my red pillow case. To be honest my exact memories of this event are a little hazy. But eventually we were all in the lounge room and rifling through our pillow cases. Always keeping a watchful eye on what my brothers were pull out of their pillow cases. Usually what they had was not interesting at all, they were teenagers. They had things like cologne, t-shirts, CDs and books. Pfft to that I say!
So I am rummaging through my bag, finding all the little goodies. There are smaller toys coming out at the top; miniature figurines, smaller Lego and most likely a ball some description. But I knew the prize would be at the bottom. It was always at the bottom. I stretched my little arm as far as it could go. Those pillow cases seemed bottomless when I was kid. I could almost get my whole body inside them. I could feel it though. The cardboard box. The plastic shielding on the front. Only the best toys were packaged that way. I remember pulling it out slowly…
I was shocked… the pink packaging, the swirly design. I knew exactly what it. It was a Barbie. My mother had bought me a Barbie. A Barbie was definitely not on any list. Right then, that became my worst Christmas. My mother had bought me a Barbie doll for my main Christmas present. All my dreams of the amazing toys I could have gotten my hands on… down the drain. Although I didn’t realise it at the time, my brothers were making jokes about my sexuality. Many, many a joke about it.
When the shops opened a few days later Mum took me to K-Mart and let me pick my own present, thankfully. I will probably never forgive her for that, not entirely. She claims that I used to play with my cousins Barbie dolls and that is why she got me one. My theory is that she lives with too many males. Between my Dad, me and my two brothers there really wasn’t anything girly happening in the house. My eldest brother agrees with me. He says it was an attempt to either help me embrace my feminine side, or just flat out turn me gay. Unfortunately for her it doesn’t really work that way. It is the most unforgettable Christmas gift I have gotten, but probably the best story.
Entry for The Friday Challenge
