Ho - Ho - Ho

Christmas is bittersweet for me. I remember the excitement of waking at 5 a.m. and running in to see what "Santa" dropped off at our house. "Santa" always gave my older brother great gifts - like magic sets, or microscopes, or telescopes. For me..."Santa" must've thought I was my sisters twin because he always gave us the same thing - dolls, stuffed animals, Barbies, Easy-Bake ovens. I wasn't in to the domestic thing...at all (I still don't feel that itch). So it was around the age of 7when I realized parents have different ambitions for their children. The "boys" can be Doctors or Lawyers or Scientists - but the girls...give them a bubble-pop vacuum cleaner and they're set. My parents (or Santa) was badly mistaken. I often wonder how my life would have changed if I had been given a microscope versus an ugly doll whose mouth moved if you pulled the plastic ring at the back of her neck. I mean, HELLO, I'm smarter than that! Doll's don't talk! There was a mechanism in there that made the lips move - and I was going to find it. So, I took a screwdriver and pried the jaw open, pulled the back of the head off, and there it was...a string wrapped around a metal cylinder. I knew it. Of course I didn't do the autopsy on MY doll - I performed the necessary surgery on my sister's doll. (I'm not stupid).

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