Saturday, March 4, 2017

What is it like to get a lump of coal for Christmas?

Every Christmas, as soon as I woke up, I would open my stocking before anything else.

I had lots of other presents, but there’s something so alluring about that stocking.
I always knew I’d find little candies that I could munch on while opening my gifts.

Then, when I was 6 or 7 years old, that fateful year came.
I woke up in the morning, flew down the stairs, and plunged into my stocking!
As I opened it, I only found one thing:

COAL.

I was devastated.

What had I done to incur this terrible wrath from my family?!

I turned to look at my mother, searching for solace as my eyes began to fill with tears. I prayed for some indication that my stocking had been switched by accident. Maybe she had misplaced my real stocking?

Instead, my mother solemnly said:

“That’s because you threw a fit a month ago when I told you to clean your room.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. My chin quivered. I was on the verge of a massive Christmas breakdown.

“Bu-…But..M-M-…I…No…I…”, I tried to say something to fix this dire situation, but I couldn’t come up with a damn thing.

Then she said the worst words I had ever heard up until that point in my life:

“You should’ve listened to me when I said not to throw a fit! Now you have to eat some of it before you can open your presents.”

Time stood still.
I got tunnel vision as I looked down at the coal.
This couldn’t be happening.

My mom picked up a small piece of coal and handed it to me, and I LOST MY SHIT.

You think newborns can cry?
You think opera singers have lung capacity??

Well, head back to 1997 when I got coal in my stocking and was told to eat it, and you will learn a whole new level of sobbing.

As I howled on the floor, kicking my feet and calling out to Jesus (Yes… I really was scream-praying, they still tease me for it), I heard my mom start laughing and felt her pick me up.

After she calmed down her child/hurricane (it took about 20 minutes), she said, “I’ll tell you what- you try one bite and if you hate it we’ll go get you a new stocking.”

I pondered her proposition.
I came up with a list of pros and cons in my head.
Eventually, I decided that it sounded pretty fair, so I took a deep breath, popped the coal in my mouth, and braced myself for the horror that I knew would be coming.

But then, much to my surprise, it tasted… sweet.

I looked at my mom, confusion and delight swimming across my face, and she said, “It’s just candy that looks like coal- gotcha! But really… no more throwing tantrums about cleaning your room, or next year I really WILL get you coal!”


My room was clean as a motherfucker the next year.



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