About the time some of my buddys were starting to "go with" girls, I was opening a GoBot Command Center in my two-year-old Tron pajamas. Back at school my friends mercilessly informed me that sixth grade was past the natural cut-off point for getting toys on Christmas. I responded by asking for a remote control Voltron in seventh grade (which I scored, thank you very much). Oh, and are you judging me because I was into GoBots and not the beloved Transformers? In my experience, trying to actually play out a storyline with the Transformers is near impossible due to their complexity. It went something like this..
"Hey everyone, we must transform and defend against the Autobot invasion!"
Fifteen minutes later I've got 'em all looking like earth vehicles (and one giant tape deck) but during the process I was pulled so far out of the action mentally that I couldn't remember what anyone was supposed to be doing. Plus, I'd grown hungry for a snack.
Gobots may be elementary, but they were fast. There, I said it.
Anyway, having seen a peek at all the childhood Christmases of my life.. what have we learned?
-I had the same haircut from birth to age eleven (at least).
-My parents chose to buy us cool gifts instead of new carpet.
-I'm a huge nerd.
-I've effectively alienated the bulk of my readership.
-I might have been better off if the Grinch would have stolen at least one of my Christmases because I was obviously toy-obsessed. In that sense it's probably best that we only get nine or ten "optimal childhood Christmas mornings." Because once those are out of the way we may get a chance to experience the true joys of Christmas.
"God bless us, every one."