You know how in pediatrician offices, there are usually a bowl of stickers for brave children to take who didn't cry when nurses stabbed them with a needle? They are usually at the desk where you check out and schedule a new appointment. No? You don't know? Well that's just too bad. Anyways, at Hyde Park Pediatrics, the office that I go to for yearly checkups, they used to have a bowl of stickers that children could take stickers from when they left the office. I guess children started taking too many free stickers because the stickers are no longer available for greedy little children.
I loved the stickers, and I would stand there for way too long trying to pick out the coolest sticker and my mother would end up ushering me out and scolding me about my behavior.
My father recently found one of these stickers in an old book of his - he was using it as a bookmark - and gave it to me. I don't remember this particular sticker, a rectangular one with an illustration of a stegasaurous in the middle, but I do remember a dinosaur loving phase I went through. Perhaps this sticker was from that phase.
I shall keep this sticker in a box, with all the other stuff from my childhood, and maybe, when I'm older, much older, I'll tell my grandchildren stories about this sticker. I'll tell them about all of it's adventures, about how it had helped me save the last unicorn, how it had helped me hack into the government's databases, and other random stories that I make up on the spot, just for the sheer joy of seeing their jaws hitting the floor, and them praising my work as the Savior of the Unicorns.
As long as they don't find this blog and read this post, I'll be safe to brag about this dinosaur sticker.
