The next thing I knew, my younger sister Kimberly was pulling at my arm and whining at me to get up. I opened my eyes and blearily looked around my bedroom. 'My God!' I thought, 'It's still the middle of the night.' Actually it turned out to be five o'clock Christmas morning and I felt like one of the undead.
My stomach was so nauseous I felt as though I would barf any second and my head was pounding with pain and felt twice as large as the Goodyear blimp. "Go away," I muttered as I pulled my arm loose from my sister's grasp and then I laid back down and shut my eyes.
"Sara! Please get up!" Kimberly shouted, sending shivers of pain through my aching head. "Santa's been here and everyone is waiting downstairs for you so we can open the presents."
I sat up and moaned, "Oh God. Why me? You go on, I'll been down in a minute."
"Oh no," my sister complained. "I'm not falling for that old trick. Mom said I can't open my gifts until you come down."
And she began yanking on my arm again. "Alright already, I'm getting up," I finally acquiesced fully realizing that Kimberly was not going to leave me alone until she had accomplished her task. "Just give me a minute, will ya?" I pleaded.
On top of everything else going wrong so early in the day, I found I had absolutely no memory of how or when I arrived home from the previous evening's festivities. I was wearing a robe that I didn't recognize. It must have been one of Vicki's.
Well, that answered a couple of questions. No wonder my mother was being so insistent about me getting up. She knew I'd be hung over. She also knew that I didn't have the slightest interest in watching Kimberly open all her great presents. My parents spoiled her rotten in my opinion. They bought her everything she wanted, unlike me who they raised with a vow of poverty. Come to think of it, I bet my parents decided they must have messed up something terrible with me considering the way I had turned out and were trying to raise my sister differently.
I arose from my bed and left the room with Kimberly racing ahead of me..
We have a time honored tradition in our family of my younger sister sitting down by the tree and handing each person their presents one at a time as though they were all from her and not from the person whose name was attached to the label. Of course in between, she would fall voraciously upon her own presents, ripping and tearing them open with great vigor.
Finally the ordeal was over and as my parents went to breakfast in the kitchen and Kimberly sat gloating among all her new acquisitions, I retreated back to my bed. Me? What did I get? Oh, just some 'sensible' outfits, which I would never wear in a million years and a religious book stressing the need for chastity during your teenage years. Haha! – little late for that. I believed as St. Augustine said, ' Lord, give me chastity – just not right now.'
I felt as though I had just fallen asleep when the ring of the front door bell awakened me. I jumped up and raced down the stairs in an effort to beat my mother to the door. I knew it was my friends, who were coming to pick me up and transport me over to Eric's house. Eric and his family had been visiting relatives in North Carolina and were expected back in the early afternoon.
I threw the front door open and beheld Dorothy, Krista and Alecia waiting to enter. This was great! They had all managed to escape the Christmas morning festivities at their respective homes. I quickly invited everyone in and elicited Dorothy's assistance in bringing down a large, empty cardboard carton from my room, while the rest of my friends waited at the front door.
By the time we reached the first floor with the box, my mother had appeared on the scene, probably drawn by the excited voices of my friends.
"Sara, where are you going dressed like that?" my mother demanded. I was still wearing Vicki's robe from the evening before.
"Out," I answered sarcastically. I could have told her I was going to Eric's, but I never gave my mother a straight answer, unless I had to.
"Well, you're not going out dressed in a bathrobe," my mother said, linguistically putting her foot down.
