I was six when I first lied to my mother. Well, the first time I remember lying to her that is. It was probably a few days after. The new package has arrived my father said. His smiled told me all I needed to know. It was exactly what he always wanted.
I sat in the middle of the floor and spread out my toys as far as I could, blocking all available pathways. My father asked if I wanted to come with or just stay there with my grandparents.
I’ll stay here thanks. It had been a week since I’d seen my mother at home. I didn’t want to see her like that. I wanted to see her home! I wanted her with me!
Where’s the damn jelly, dear. My grandfather yelled from the other room. My grandmother was asleep, watching one of my movies. I tried to ignore them the best I could. I was not a happy six year old.
My father burst through the door first, then my mother followed. All crowding around them. She was thinner than I remembered. I didn’t like this one bit. My grandparents obscured my view but I knew they were all admiring this new gift. I was told it was a gift for me.
Well would you look at that. It’s lovely. My grandmother said with such enthusiasm I’d never seen before. Even at my recitals. This angered me so. What’s so great about this stupid thing?
Dorothy come look! My father beckoned me over. I ignored, choosing to play with my doll instead. Finally my mother walked towards me.
Finally time to see my stupid gift. One I’ve been hearing about for months now. Why did everyone else get to see it before me, huh? Stupid thing anyway.
She opened the bundle in her arms and there lay the package. My oh my so wonderful present. I was not happy one bit. My mother used to love me more than stupid gifts and presents.
I stood up on my child’s stool and stared at the thing, examining every inch before raising my eyes to meet my mothers. Her smile was radiant and I knew I couldn’t tell her the truth. There was no way I would disappoint her when she was this happy.
I looked back down at my so called gift and took a deep breath. Looking up at the four adults, all staring at me intently, waiting for an answer.
The words tasted sour as they left my mouth, but I suppose that’s the cost of love.
I always wanted a little brother, mommy.