For his birthday, my son got no less than five Star Wars Transformers, and no duplicates. What kind of luck is that and why doesn't this kind of thing happen to me? I have very poor luck when it comes to the birthday giftage. If it is somehow duplicative, damaged, faulty, recalled, or butt ugly, someone will buy it for me.
Up until this very moment, I viewed this as mere coincidence, but now I'm starting to wonder if people are trying to tell me something.
For example, I give you my 15th birthday. That was the year that my aunt gave me the Tit Obsessed Flamingo Vest right in front of all of my friends. Although you might not believe me, I can quite honestly say that the Tit Obsessed Flamingo Vest was worse than it sounds. It was a grey sweater vest, which is negative style points to start with, even in the late 1980s. And it was festooned with two huge hot pink flamingos that stared with bulging eyes at my breasts.
Because you know, I was 15, and apparently what I needed was more attention brought to my chestal area. By pervy flamingos, no less.
Now, earlier, I was complaining about my knack for problematic giftage. If you give me an adorable sweater, it will mysteriously unravel the first time I wash it. Buttons fall off cute and kicky skirts when I'm not looking. Handy little gadgets are stolen by small birds to furnish their in-nest entertainment systems. But that damned Tit Obsessed Flamingo Sweater refused to die. I actually put it into the washing machine on accident with a pair of scissors, and it came out without a single snag.
Flamingos have long been one of my favorite animals. I like them despite the fact that they now remind me of Miami Vice and the Tit Obsessed Sweater, two horrible associations that do not taste great together.
We're in the Month-o-Harris-Birthdays, and mine is coming up on Saturday. If anyone gives me a sweater vest, I'm throwing myself out the window. Just wanted to warn you in case I suddenly disappear.