The best gift I never got

I should preface by saying that my mother has eight children, so Christmas shopping can probably get a little overwhelming. It’s got to be hard to keep those lists straight. Anyhow, allow me to take you back in time. The year was 1994, and I was but a lowly 4th grader. I had the great fortune of knowing exactly what I wanted for Christmas that year. A Game Boy. It didn’t bother me that the word “boy” was in the name of the toy. It was clearly meant for me. When I would visit my cousin Tracy, I would often leave her upstairs to play with her dolls, while I played Mario Bros or Duck hunt with her little brother, Matto. In contrast, my sister, Kelli, loved to accompany Tracy around the neighborhood as they pushed their baby dolls in their toy strollers. To each his own, right? No, you’re right; it’s just lame. Anyway, while Kelli probably asked for glitter nail polish or a Minnie Mouse book, I had written “GAME BOY” out five times on my list and numbered it 1-5 in order of greatest need. I didn’t ask for anything else; I didn’t want anything else.
When Christmas morning rolled around, I excitedly approached the tree knowing the approximate size and shape of the package I was looking for. As we opened presents, one at a time, I remembered anticipating the great unveiling. When would I get my Game Boy? Surely it was just a matter of time. None of my presents looked the right size though, and each one I opened revealed another gift that was not on my Christmas list. Ah well, maybe next year.
Across the room I heard several of my siblings gasp. They moved around Kelli and pointed to the gift she had just opened. “What could be garnering her all of this attention?” I wondered. I moved toward her and suddenly realized what the hoopla was about. In her hand was a Game Boy -- my freakin’ Game Boy. And my parents had gotten her a Looney Tunes game to go along with it. How lame! Kelli may have liked Looney Tunes, but she didn’t even play video games! Had my parents really screwed up so monumentally? Did they not even know the difference between their own daughters? I was angry. “How could this be happening to me?” I wondered, “This isn’t what Christmas is all about.” In my mind, Christmas was about giving good gifts to the people that wanted them; to break it down to the simplest terms, me + gameboy = Christmas.
So that Christmas sucked. At the time, I didn’t even understand the error of my ways. But as I was driving to work one morning just a few months ago, it hit me. At 27 I can truly say that I am so glad my parents didn’t get me that blasted Game Boy. It is the best gift I never got. In that single moment, they communicated to me that neither the world, nor the Christmas holiday , nor my family revolved around li’l old me. I was not the center of the universe (as I had imagined). And, consequently, neither was the Game Boy. I learned that sometimes I will not get the things that I want, even if I desire that thing with my whole being. In fact, I may have to watch other people get something that I desperately want, when they didn’t even “wish” for it. That is a hard lesson to accept when you’re 10, but it is much harder if that lesson doesn’t come until you’re 20, 30, or 40. So thank you, Mom and thank you, Dad. You made Christmas 1994 miserable, and I am better for it.