Hard Knock Life

At school this week, my teacher gave me a Scholastic Book Club order form that my folks could order books for me from at a pretty cheap price. When I took it home and daddy saw the form, he said it was a blast from the past and made him think about when he was little and he would get the same order forms. He told mommy how he remembers all the kids being real excited to get the forms because they would usually get all the books they wanted. He said that he was able to order books every now and then, but not as many or as often as the other kids because money was always a factor.

See, he was raised in a single parent home and his mommy didn’t always have spare cash to get him everything the other kids had. He recalls feeling somewhat envious at times because like any kid, he wanted more and more. He was quick to point out that one thing he never felt was unloved. Grannie made sure he knew he was the most important person in the world and her number one priority. While this was obviously more important than anything, it was difficult to a child having to watch all his friends get real excited when the books were delivered in a big brown box while he sat there and tried to peak at what they got.

Fast forward to today, daddy told mommy this story while holding back emotions. He vowed (he stopped short of pulling a Scarlett O-Hara, “As God is my witness….nor any of my folk….“) that I would not be the kid that doesn’t get a book when the big brown box comes in. Whenever we get an order form, we are ordering something.

Fast forward to 2 minutes after my daddy regressed to that young little boy with no books….vulnerable….emotional…..mommy said, “Didn’t you go to private school?? Was it hard not having a driver drop you off?? Or have a butler carry your books to your classes?? You made it sound like there were going to be Christmas Shoes or a Pickle Jar in the story. You’re talking about not getting books. I think me growing up in Mesquite has you beat.”

So it seems daddy and Little Orphan Annie and Oliver Twist don’t have as much in common after all. As a matter of fact, it sounds like daddy has more in common with Ricky Stratton than anyone else. Sorry dad, that was one of the worst sob stories I’ve ever heard in my 4+ years, but thanks for the books.

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