Pink Ribbons & Junk

A pretty pink ribbon falls quick victim to impatient seven-year old fingers as Patrice opens her birthday present. A sunshine smile breaks as the last bits of pastel tissue paper fold (really, tear) back to reveal a shiny gold coin. For a moment, the arching smile gives way to a puzzled straight line, then the sun breaks through again as Patrice rushes to her father’s arms.
“I love it, really I do, Daddy,” she says, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck. He picks her up to his lap, hugging her tightly to him.
“Do you really?” he asks, strangely expectant, almost as if speaking to an adult. “If you don’t like it, your mother can take it back and get you something else.”
“It’s the best birthday present...

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