Birthdays & Youngbucks

So. I’ve been going through this thing every year since embarking on the big divide with the now Mr. x-Wabbit. The dilemma of all dilemmas…what to get my brother for his birthday. The very brother who smashed my heart into a gazillion pieces when he took Mr. x-Wabbit's side over mine. Was hurtful after all the afternoons we spent as wee ones watching The Carol Burnett show together and he’d be Tim to my Carol. We were funny, funny, funny…re-enacting the skits for our parents after dinner. Le memories…

So you’d think I’d be over it right? Right? Right?

Well maybe I’m not.

My mom calls a few nights ago to make plans with my sis and I for my brother’s birthday.

Our response…

“OMG! It’s his birthday again??? What the hell even???” Actually she asked “what the hell”…I threw in the “even” cause I’m like that and stuff.

So sis decides she’s not getting him anything at all. Reason. Because he never gets us anything for birthdays or Christmas. Hmmm…sounds good to me. But then I decide, I’m getting him a present. Yeah. But it will be a gift of gags. Woooohooo! Am funny and will be fun!

Last night the gag gift was purchased. And then today as I was running to the store to get wrapping for the great gag gift…this little thing in my heart says to me…”Awww. But he always wears what you get him for his birthday for the family Christmas party. Giving him the gag gift will be breaking this little unspoken tradition between the two of you…”

Damn heart thingie!

So…I end up buying him a very nice sweater. And I know he’s gonna wear it for Christmas. But if for some reason he doesn’t…then the unspoken tradition between the two of us is off and next year he will so seriously get the gag gifts of all gag gifts for his birthday.

Another thing. During my lunch-time shopping, I remembered the wee one wants an xbox for Christmas. For some strange reason I’m thinking Target will have one of which I can happily purchase, and run in straight to the gaming section. It’s at this particular moment, for some strange reason as it’s never happened before, I suddenly was complete-sentence-challenged.

Me: xbox?
Sales Dude: Hello there Miss. How can I help you?
Me: xbox. Must have.
Sales Dude: Hmmm…I don’t remember seeing any this morning.
Me: Now. You look. For Me? Please? Smile
Sales Dude: Sure. Wait here and I’ll be right back.
Me: Humms unrecognizable tune to self
Sales Dude: Sorry Miss. We don’t have anymore.
Me: What the hell even??? It’s only the 7th. Get more? When?
Sales Dude: Sorry. I don’t know. I’ll need to ask my manager.
Me: Ask Manager. Important. Must get xbox. Pleeeasse?
Sales Dude: Hey what country are you from? Your accent is cute.
Can I get your number?
Me: Ummm…Will that get me an Xbox?

Okay. I didn’t give out my number. I mean. After all…he could have been one of those friendly, helpful Target sales people by day, and fiendish, stalker, serial rapist guys by night. And Charmie don’t play that. Noooo dankas!

Plus he was only like, 16 or something like that. I don’t mind younger guys, but that would have definitely been way past the limit of the legalness that I live my life so completely by.

And…my body must be giving off some super young buck pheromones today. I noticed that McDonald’s is giving away Sonic games in their Happy Meals, Yay! So I stopped by for lunch. Instead of the food handler guy handing me my food, he leans out of the drive-through window and is in my car! Seriously, he was so close I could smell his forehead! I could have bit his nose or popped his pimple! Neither of which I did because I was shocked that I could smell his forehead!

Food Handler: Here you go. Do you need any ketchup?
Me: Thank you and no thank you.
Food Handler: Okay. You have a nice day. :)
Me: Okay. You too.
Food Handler: Bye. :)
Me: Ummm. You’re still in my car.
Food Handler: Heh. Yeah. Sorry. :)
Me: Okay. I’m going now. You might want to get back in your window or you will be dragged out of your window as I pull away. Would hurt. I’m just saying…
Food Handler: Laughs. Oh. Yeah. Right. Have a nice day. :)

So they say things come in three’s right? I’m just wondering what my next super young buck encounter of the day will be. What’s scary is I’m thinking it may end up being the 8 year old kid I see in Starbuck’s every morning ordering his triple shot expresso. That one? Is always a what the hell moment. And thinking of an 8 year old wired to the hilt on 3 shots of espresso…scary even.