I remember back when I was younger, my mom would throw us the typical birthday parties with some friends and family.

Something of note about myself is that I have always been a BIG fan of pickles. Whether it be hamburger sliced ones, the sweet gherkins or the massive dills, I have always loved em.

That being said, during one particular party, my aunt had mentioned that she had gotten me my own huge 10 pound jar of dill pickles. To my younger social anxiety ridden self, I had convinced myself that she was going to put the huge honking jar in a bag and force me to open it in front of the two or three friends I had around me. My friends that had made it a point to mention that they all hated pickles, so of course they would not understand my weird family and tease me incessantly for it.

All throughout the party leading up to presents, even during the horrendous rendition of Happy Birthday, those dang pickles kept creeping into my mind. All I could think of was the impending disaster of being absolutely HUMILIATED in front of everyone. Needless to say, I wanted to shut everything down and shoo everyone home.

When it was that dreaded time of accepting the nice gifts people were bestowing upon me, I literally could not focus on anything but my aunt’s gift coming closer and closer to the front of the line. Of course, it would just so happen to be the very last present so I was forced to muscle through its never ending gaze, just furthering my abject TERROR.

Yes it was about pickle jar height, but could that cheap plastic papery stuff handle the full girth and weight of a 15 pound jar of dills? I was about to find out!

My best friend who was passing down the presents like the world’s best assembly line worker, seemed to struggle a bit to lift it. Oh no…..

I remember holding my breath as she stumble-placed it in front of my criss-cross sitting self. The dang tissue paper was in the way!

I pause. Look around at all the anticipating and semi bored faces around me. I see my aunt SMILING at me from her seat that placed her a smug ten feet away.

I gulp. Look down at the blue tissue paper and the overtly cheery “Happy Birthday” bag. The bag that held my entire social future in its hands. The bag that had single handedly CONSUMED what was supposed to be the epitome of my special day.

Here goes nothing.

I slowly take out the tissue paper piece by piece. It was honestly a miracle of how many pieces my aunt ended up stuffing in this bloody thing!

Finally what felt like an eternity, I could see the top of something….and it was most certainly NOT a lid to an almost comical size of pickle jar!

To this day, I have no recollection of what she had actually gotten me in that dang bag. I remember her coming up to me after that fact and I guess she saw the abject fear in my eyes since she was a bit shocked I would actually think she would force me to open up pickles in front of everyone. I chuckled to myself and told her that was ridiculous…..

As it turns out, she did in fact get me my own 20 pound jar of Dill pickles but she had placed it discreetly in the fridge for me to consume at my own ledger. Of course I did at some point as I was not about to let those go to waste!

This may have been a harrowing situation for a child, but at least it has a happy pickle filled ending 🙂