boxing gloves

presents

My little body couldn't handle the excitement anymore. I pretended to be asleep. I tried my very best not to move. I heard them in the kitchen. Or was it the living room? Anyway, doesn't matter.

I heard the crumble of gift paper and my mom's voice asking my dad if he's ready. I smelled my favourite cake. Vanilla and caramel. I could feel my feet shaking from excitement.

Birthday gitters.

Today I am a full 5 years old! I thought. I can't wait to get my presents! Is it going to a train set? Is it going to be a new teddy? No ways! What if it's a guitar?!

I will admit in all honesty that I was a naive little boy. I just remember the overwhelming happiness and hope which filled my 5-year-old body that morning. It's a feeling I will never forget.

Mom and Dad came into my room with a cake and a present. We struggled financially so it was a very small cake but of course I still shared with them.
My present was in a square box and it was wrapped in red paper.

Immediately I realized that it wasn't a guitar. A rush of disappointment washed over me but I stayed optimistic. I could feel mom watching me carefully, I think she saw the disappointment on my face because she got quite upset. So I put a smile on my face and opened the present.

I like the way people have an instinct to dishonesty from a small age. It really exposes the world we live in today. Sarcasm seeping through every though.

I removed the wrapping paper and opened the box...

Red,
Shiny,
New,
Violent...

Boxing gloves.

Dad grew up with a dream. Since he's early days of walking this earth, he had a passion. Boxing.

Fighting.

The art of hitting and abusing another man to the point of giving up.

I've heard the story multiple times about how his father never cared about him or his dream and his passion. Along with the story of how I must be more thankful; the story of how lucky I am to have a dad who wants to help me with a passion, with a dream.

Just too bad it's not my passion and dream. It's his.

I find it funny how my passion is the opposite of his.

Where he likes violence, I like... well...