Self Story #3 : Blue Jean Birthday

“Come on Mom I don’t want to be late for the party”. I was jumping around excitedly at the back door. A bright pink birthday present was in one hand and the other rested on the door knob anxiously waiting to open it and run out to the vehicle. My mom slowly made her way downstairs in an unrushed manner that was totally bizarre to my energy rushed young mind. As soon as her shoes were on, I flew out the door, runners tapping as they hit the sidewalk. I gave a heave as I slid open the heavy blue-green van door and the wrapping paper concealing the present rustled as I swung it onto the grey seat. Snap went the seatbelt into place and I clapped my hands in an excited anticipation as we pulled out of the driveway. I watched the familiar streets pass by as we headed across town. The same manners/politeness talk sounded from my mom in the driver’s seat as we grew closer to my friend’s house. The biggest smile spread across my face as the van parked on the side of the street and I saw other girls in my class arriving at the same time. My friends and I grabbed hands and danced around in the street as our parents briefly talked. Confidently walking up to the door, we knocked with two raps of our small fists. The birthday girl’s mom invited us in and took our birthday gifts for us as we left our shoes at the door. We each hugged the birthday girl and started playing with some toys as the last guests arrived. Then, the birthday girl’s mom announced that we could head to the back yard to play before the birthday games started. Twelve girls sat on the floor putting our shoes on, each declaring that we would win pin the tail on the donkey. Outside, we took turns on the swing set and talked. Some of the girls began discussing their newly bought designer jeans. They were the current big trend and each one started to show theirs off and “model” as they pretended the grass in front of us was a cat walk. My best friend and I looked at each other in our faded old blue jeans and then turned our eyes to stare at the ground. We both knew our parents could never afford to buy us such expensive pairs of jeans. Since we didn’t have any, we knew the girls would never let us have a turn modelling. Even if we did have a turn, we wouldn’t want to risk the mean comments about not having the designer jeans. Later at the party we made jokes to each other that we didn’t want the silly jeans either and that all those rhinestones on the pockets must make sitting a lot more uncomfortable. We continued our afternoon feeling happy together about our own outfits and with more confidence after being declared the winners of the two pin the tail on the donkey games. Cause who cares about designer jeans when you win a candy bag!