The Gift

Two weeks before my 5th birthday I glimpsed the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, Combat Carl. Probably the most awesome-st cartoon character in the world! And now, for a limited time offer, he was the coolest action figure EVER! I watched as he flew through space on his trusty robot horse, Rover. I watched as aliens ran in fear, screaming in foreign alien tongues in horror at the shear power of Combat Carl. And I watched as the president awarded him the medal of galactic freedom, the highest honor ever to be bestowed upon anyone, ever! Power Rangers can kiss my scrawny little butt.
My resources were weak, but my goal was clear. He would be mine. His laser gun would glisten in the playground sun as kids from near and far would come in awe to pay homage to their one true kinder garden God. But how? I blew all of this weeks allowance on those gumdrops. Damn my shortsightedness! How would I come up with the $19.99 + $12 shipping and handling!?
There was one other option…and only one thing stood between me and everlasting glory. The laws of ecumenical finance, or as I would tell my friends “Dumb dad wont buy me my toy”. Cant he see its already mine! I claimed it, God sent me that commercial for a reason.
I jumped from my chair knowing that this would be the hunt of my life, I knew where my prey lie in wait. The office, fiddling with his computer like always. But what should I arm myself with. What case shall I make, I must be coy, I must be cool. I must convince him that he should act for his own benefit, not simply mine.
As I entered the office I addressed him with the cool calm I knew would win my case, “OH MY GOD DAD YOU CANT BELIEVE, I MEAN, OH MY GOD, ITS SO AWESOME, HE’S JUST THE COOLEST, I MEAN OH MY GOD, He was like VROOM and they were like AHHH. And I really really really really want it. Please Dad you just gotta!

“What?” was his simpleton response.
"Combat Carl Dad, DUH! And If you act now you can get it for the low low price of $19.99 + $12 shipping and handling!”
“Is this some toy?” he replied, my nerves about to pop from frustration
“NOOOO, Combat Carl is not a toy, he’s a god, and I gotta have him dad, PLEASE!”
“Your not getting any new toys, not until you learn to save your money instead of blowing it on candy every week, besides, don’t you have those Power Ranger action figures around still?”
“I Hate You”
“You don’t mean that”
“Yes I do! You never do anything for me, I hate you I hate you I hate you!” With that I turned and ran out of the office screaming at the top of my lungs. That went well, I thought.
When I was back in my room I started putting away all my old toys. I knew then that my brilliant argument had worked. For in two weeks time, I would be having a very happy birthday indeed.