Whatever happened to Santa Claus?

I'm feeling kind of stressed out. I'm only visiting Virginia for 10 days this winter break. It is extra tough because I work for two of those days and tomorrow I have to go to the dentist/take my computer for repairs. I have very little time for last minute Christmas shopping (read: ALL my Christmas shopping).

Last night my mother hands me some cash.

"Carina, I have a problem. Right now your sister has one more present than you do. I don't have time to go shopping so I need you to pick something up for yourself, wrap it up, and put it under the tree for Christmas morning."

And she is serious, because this kind of thing mattered ten years ago. And, more importantly, why would I argue? I'll just grab something while I'm shopping tomorrow. This is fine, I know me, I know what I like.

So here is what I do this morning: I wake up early and drive to Tysons. I shop for four hours, spend way a lot of money (I figure if somebody doesn't like what they get at least it will be expensive, thus I don't feel so bad), and take almost an hour getting home in pre-rush hour traffic.

What I don't do is remember to buy myself something. I lie, though, and tell my mom I didn't forget.

I fret, then decide I'll order shoes online tonight, print out a picture, and wrap it up in an old shoebox. My mom will be annoyed, but it will be cute ...and thinking about Tysons makes me feel sick.

Tonight I talk to my mother.

"Look, I bought a four dollar picture frame on clearance and put a picture of a cat in it."

"Don't talk to me right now."

So I don't. I sit awkwardly.

"Something is wrong. Carina, I forgot I gave Amy one of her presents early. She's been wearing it for weeks."

"..."

"You have an extra present."

Out comes the cash.

"I need you to go shopping tomorrow. Buy your sister something, then wrap it up, and put it under the tree."

!

(Goddamnit 10 year old me. This is your fault.)