Day: October 7, 2018

Aaaaaand…

And it’s the perfect gift, because my family knows me well.

Nothing has ever made me happier than Selvadorada, and in the box, I find two plane tickets, framing a two-week trip to the Belomisian jungle, a new, high-definition camera, and a blank notebook. Blank, except for the first page, where each of the weirdos I call my family, wrote a note for me.

To keep track of your beautiful adventures —Dad.

Pretty sure you won’t let Cy and I read this. Still, enjoy. I picked it — C.

Ready to have this covered in scribbles in the blink of an eye. I’m so proud of you! — Mom.

Cléo totally did not pick it. I did. Merry Christmas, BanHannah — Cy.

Totally picked it. Also, our birthday is the day after you get back, keep that in mind when you choose souvenirs. — C.

A moment to remember

Over the next half hour, wrapping paper flies all around the room, along with laughter and cries of excitement. Nounou is thoroughly unimpressed, because apparently the fireplace, his own true love, is much more interesting than us, and he didn’t get anything anyway. Loladorado is just ignoring the whole thing.

But Cyril, Cyril has whipped his phone out, and is recording everything, the smiles and the laughs and the happiness. The kind of videos I can’t help but think I’ll cherish even more once I4m out of this house, and away from them for good.

But now is not the time to think of that. It’s my turn to open my gifts!

The Twins’s Gifts

Cléo and Dad get a hold of their gifts first, with the enthusiasm and total lack of shame that one clearly inherited from the other. The one Dad is holding is mine, a Salvadoradian artisanal statue that made me think of him, and I’m pleased to see his smile as he inspects it.

Cléo somehow went straight for the one gift Mom and I meant for both her and Cyril. Tentatively, she slides the lid open, and discovers the gardening kits inside. And it’s a success!

The Twins’s Gifts

Cléo and Dad get a hold of their gifts first, with the enthusiasm and total lack of shame that one clearly inherited from the other. The one Dad is holding is mine, a Salvadoradian artisanal statue that made me think of him, and I’m pleased to see his smile as he inspects it.

Cléo somehow went straight for the one gift Mom and I meant for both her and Cyril. Tentatively, she slides the lid open, and discovers the gardening kits inside. And it’s a success!