Do you remember the Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes? An envelope would arrive in the junk mail, with instructions on how you, too, could win a million dollars. It involved pasting tiny little stamps on what looked like dozens of pieces of paper. I remember because I would walk downstairs on Sunday morning, and there seven-year-old Kim would be, in her anal-retentive uber-organized glory, sitting at the kitchen table as my mom did dishes, filling out allll the forms. My mom would let her – encouraged her, even – because it kept Kim busy and it made her happy. Eleven-year-old me would shake my head, maybe explain again that nothing was going to come of it, and then check to see if there were donuts.
Flash-forward almost mumble:thirty:mumble years, and picture me waking up from a delightful nap one day over Christmas break, and then walking out to the living room to find Kim sitting at the coffee table in front of her laptop and a stack of DVD slips. On the floor at her feet, my girls were frantically opening DVD cases and adding them to the growing pile around them, looking for more papers with code.
“What are you doing?” I asked, with not the smallest amount of deja vu flooding me.
Everyone’s head popped up. I don’t even remember who answered. “Looking for Disney codes so we can redeem them online!”
I sighed and made some tea and mocked the entire situation. Yes, it kept them busy – especially when it came time to figure out how to divide their resources. Gracie got a new movie, Bee got…well, I’m not really sure. And it turns out that I got this:
And that is when I stopped mocking the craziness that is my sister and redeeming stupid crap
through the mail online. Because bobbleheads.