True Story











{April 14, 2010}   Me and Cousin Eddie

True Story:  I’ve worn a Dickie. As in a Dickie Turtleneck… Yep.

My Mom gave us everything we needed, but not everything we wanted. Which, I suppose is what most of us try to do.

Whatever brand everyone was wearing, she would buy us the off-brand. I suppose I am thankful for this today, as I am currently not materialistic or a clothes-hound. If win the Lotto tomorrow we’ll re-evaluate that statement

However, this could be a little embarrassing during the teenage years when having everything your friends did,was like the most important thing in the WORLD, you know? Ye-ah… Like, ev-ah…

I don’t know if you remember, but somewhere around 1987, leather bomber jackets were in style. At least in small town Alabama, they were.

All my friends had one and I wanted one too. Mom took me to Wal-Mart to look at some pleather bullshit. I was like, “Mom, it has to be a REAL leather jacket, GOSH”!

Mom:  I’m not paying $200 for a leather jacket.

True Story:  One of my Mom’s famous lines is, “I’m not buying you another stitch’!

I’ve heard it like 5 trillion times. Never gets old, hmm.

So, after begging for a leather jacket for what I think is a reasonable amount of time (6 months), I am expecting to get one for Christmas. I am just sure of it!

I am also picking up on little hints from My mom in the weeks leading up to Christmas that Santa might be skinning a cow at that time. (My intuition was not very strong then).

True Story:  I like surprises… Good ones.

True Side Note:  I hate surprise drop-in visits. Do you?

I’m always naked or … naked. Call first people.

The reason I bring up surprises is I really like to open any and all gifts that are given to me WITHOUT knowing what is inside of them prior to the opening.

I like everyone to be real quiet, and watch me open my gift. I’m very good at being the guest of honor at my own baby shower or birthday party.

Well, this particular Christmas Season, I let a friend convince me that it was cool to open your gifts late at night while your parents were sleeping, see what you were getting, then wrap them back just as they were. She was REALLY good at it. Me? Not so much. Not too crafty.

So, one night, about a week before Christmas, circa. 1987, my friends, A & P, were spending the night. I told them how this girl had taught me how to open the gifts up. The 3 of us decided we should check out my goodies.

We picked out the large “clothing” box that HAD to be my leather jacket. It was the only one that fit the bill.

We gingerly peel the tape back and slide the paper off. I start to get excited and look around to make sure no adult is coming.

How will I disguise my knowing excitement Christmas morning when I already know what’s coming??? OOHHH!

We lift the white lid off the box…

A gorgeous, worn, brown leather KICK ASS bomber jacket…

No. 12 stacked Dickies in a multitude of colors and a black paten, leather clock purse.

True Story:  Curiosity embarrassed the S _ _ T out of the stupid cat.

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