A few nights ago, I was sitting in the passenger seat of my mom's Nissan Altima, fiddling with the radio dial in desparation of a good tune. My house was resting at the bottom of the hill, so I surrendured my efforts and waited to enter the garage. My mom noticed a note stuck on the front door. Of course, being the courteous and helping son that I always am, 100% of the time, 24 hours a day, I went to the door to see who would take the time to inform us that they had come knocking while we were gone. The UPS man had left a note revealing that he was holding onto my birthday gift.

"Oh mom... it was UPS. They said they have a 'Total Gym 1000' to deliver to us, but we weren't home."

Mom's reaction? "Oh, shit!"

When birthdays and Christmas roll around, I never know what material objects I am deprived of that would make my life happier and fuller. This birthday I actually requested a Total Gym 1000, the exercise machine in those infomercials with Chuck Norris and Christie "I'm still hot in my 40s" Brinkley. I hate the gym but enjoy preventing an expanding gut as long as possible, and this machine really works (statement based on ratings, family use, and personal use). I'd rather work out in privacy, with the music I want to hear, at the pace I want to exert, with no buff dude overlooking my workout. I can bring it to Gainesville, roll it under my bed, and use it whenever I feel in the mood to look in the mirror and see my muscles bulge.

I figured my parents would take advantage of my actually wanting something and buying it for my birthday, but I had confirmation from that UPS big-mouth. Come Sunday, the climax of what I'm getting for surviving another year will be lowered because the conclusion has already been spoiled. I'll be fine with it. Hmm... where was I going with this?

...

... I guess I just wanted to announce what I got for my birthday before I opened it.