When I was young, I wished for many things. I had read this story about a man who caught a leprechaun and was granted three wishes. Being both male and unable to think past his immediate needs, upon minor hunger pains, he wished for a sausage. Furious for having wasted a wish, his wife proceeded to berate him for his stupidity. He then wished the sausage upon her nose. And as his wife's fury descended into pleading at the newfound appendage, he wished the sausage off her nose, unable to tolerate any more of her nagging. And then they shared it as a meal and lived happily ever after.
Something happened today that got me to thinking about some of my childhood desires. I wished to be an Olympic figure skating champion. Sad to say, I never saw the day, and I never even made it to triples. I wished blond haired, blue eyed Vince G. would reciprocate my three-year long first crush. He never did, or so I thought, but he rocked my world for the entirety of the fourth grade.
I wished for a chinchilla upon having petted one at what I now can only presume was an illegal pet shop by the skating rink. And just like my parents repeatedly nixing the puppy idea, they soon laid this one to rest as well in the graveyard of bright-eyed dreams. I wished for glasses, and those I got, only after mock-squinting and lying during my eye exam.
"O.. F, no wait, E, I mean, F.. L.. C? Er.. I think it's another O.."
And to think, I was so pleased with my pink plastic-framed nerd glasses. The prescription lenses were probably what caused my descent into bad vision.
Lastly, I wished for a broken bone. There would be a story:
"Yeah, I must've caught a rut when landing my lutz," I'd say nonchalantly. "The ambulance had to come." I could barely do a toe loop, but it didn't matter.
"That's soooooooooo rad! Did they ring the siren?" This was to be followed by a series of oooohs and aaaahs.
And I, too, wanted a cast that all my friends could sign. I had it all planned out. There would be markers and Sharpies, and I would provide subtle artistic direction on what the best use of space would be. Vince's signature would be front and center, of course. And there would also be flowers, Sanrio characters, and thoughtful messages. Well, as thought-filled as is possible for a fifth grader. And for all those reasons, I so badly wanted a hairline fracture.
Today, after a series of x-rays and years of unrequited longing, that dream came true.