mary’s blog

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All? I Want For Christmas Is Calee’s Pokedex

Our last story ended with Calee in a life-threatening situation. She has just unwrapped a Pokedex while her Jealous Big Sister looked on and cherished murderous thoughts. On Christmas.

In fairness to Calee, years of being the youngest kid has taught her to be wary of flaunting her blessings. For example, she knew not to dance around the tree like a prat.

Unfortunately, she hasn’t learned two important life lessons yet: [1] how to use the mute button, and [2] how to spell Pikachu.

Which is why the Pokedex continued to demand my attention. Every beep. Every button pressed. Every lame attempt to type Pickachew was a call to me. Its rightful master.

And I’m supposed to ignore it and focus on… Hairy Peter?

This… boy who is sad because he wears hand-me-downs and cooks bacon for Dudy’s birthday? Well, BOO-FREAKING-HOO.

You want to know anguish, Harry? You want to know injustice? How about this:

My sister got a Pokedex.

My sister who didn’t save a month’s worth of lunch money to buy a Pokemon poster. My sister who doesn’t even know what “susceptible to ice attacks” means. My sister whose inability to spell P-I-K-A-C-H-U is causing a barrage of beep beep beeps to stab me right in my jealous heart. On Christmas.

I hate you, Harry Botter! I hate that you’re not red and shiny! I hate that you can’t show me Articuno and Zapdos and Moltres! I hate your stupid scar and I hope you get Sorcerer’s Stone in your kidneys!

I ran upstairs and locked myself in grandma’s room lest I hate Calee too and commit fratricide. (On Christmas.)

But this book, this forking book came with me. And I didn’t even notice I was holding it until I woke up from my tear-induced sleep and decided to read the damn thing.

Why?

Because I’m still mad. Because I can still hear beeping noises downstairs. Because if I show up shooting murderous stares at my little sister, I will get 5 lashes. Because it’s Christmas and I should be able to do whatever I want. And right now I want to read this forking book.

This… forking amazing book!

About wizards hidden in plain sight, if anyone cared to look closely. About this crazy Headmaster who laughs at corny jokes and doesn’t punish people for breaking curfew. About this Unreliable Narrator who will point out important facts, drown them in unimportant details, and wrap them in a thick layer of bias until you don’t know truth from lies and you’re left at the penultimate chapter saying “By golly, this forking book got me! Hihihi!”

I am sorry, Harry. Never again shall I hate a book and judge it by its inability to display Pokemon animations at will.

I will now look forward to receiving books on Christmas. Preferably with a Pokedex attached.

Ω

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