Meemee brought the baby home early. Grumpa had been up since 2 a.m. and he needed to get home to sleep, so the birthday activities would start earlier than planned.
As soon as she walked through the door, she started asking about the “pwesents”. She wanted them. Now. But mommy wouldn’t be home for another thirty minutes and I had to go pick up Matilda from an after school event.
We made dinner, picked up the older sister and keep Meemee and Grumpa happy. All the while Gertrude moved around the room like she had taken speed. She was blurry around the edges, frantic, babbling. Much like I am on the opening day of the Lord of the Rings movies.
We were finally done with dinner, which Gert barely touched in between asking about “pwesents”. We prepared the cake.
“Gasp! Choo choo trains!”
“Yes Gertrude. There are choo choo trains on the cake.”
“I eat them?”
“No, they’re plastic. But you can play with them later.”
So we light the candle and sing Happy Birthday to her, with blatant disregard for the royalties owed to the two little old ladies who wrote the song. She blows out her candle with the minimum amount of spit. We’re all very proud.
“I EAT IT!”
I take the trains off the cake. “Want to lick the icing off Gertrude?”
“Ewww. I not eat them. Plastic!” Duh, Daddy. What’s wrong with you.
She devours a huge piece of cake. Or, to be more exact, she reduces the piece of cake to a mixture of crumbs and icing that become imbedded in her ears and hair. We think some may have landed in her mouth.
And now . . . the presents.
She leaps down off of her booster chair and begins to run around in excitement. She makes random patterns in the kitchen while I go get the wrapped goodies.
She opens her first. A stuffed Dora. Seems decent. Plastic tools? Very cool. Wood puzzle with locks and latches? Also excellent, and stolen by her sister. Wiggles poster? Nice.
We get to one of the bigger presents. He sister begins to help her open it. She sees red. Her eyes widen and she claps. Then the Wiggles logo is revealed. Her clapping intensifies. Then, it is clear. It’s the Wiggles guitar. If you slow down the tape you can see her smile melt into a look of surprise and disbelief. And then her face explodes in joy, she squeals and her arms raise up in the air like her football team just scored the winning touchdown. “Yes,” she seemed to say, “it’s the present I’ve always wanted!”
For the next two hours she pressed buttons, strummed, bopped, danced, sang and pressed the Captain Feathersword button repeatedly so that his song on the guitar sounded as if it were recorded by Beck.
Finally, she wound down. We bathed her and then rocked her for bed. She wouldn’t let go of the guitar.
“It’s time for bed honey. We need to put the guitar away.”
“Noooooo.”
“I’m sorry. We have to put it away.” And I take the guitar.
Then it happened. This moment will never leave my memory. It is burned there forever.
Her face turned from sweet, to something that has been touched by evil. She went from being angelic to looking like a troll who had seen the dark side.
“Nooooo,” she cried. “I wants it! My precious. You’ve stolen my precious. Filthy parentses!”
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