My Christmas Day
"Wake up, wake up! Come on, it's Christmas!" My little sister Emily was jumping on me and
shaking me roughly trying to get me out of bed. Monday morning, Christmas day. 7 a.m. is too
early for anyone to wake up in my opinion, even on Christmas. "Sarah!" Emily whined as she
yanked my blankets from off my bed. I crawled out of bed, tired as ever and feeling like a zombie,
dragging my feet down the stairs to the Christmas tree. Rubbing my eyes, I slowly but surely
became more awake as my eyes adjusted to the lights in the family room. Once everything was in
focus and it didn't feel like I was looking at the sun, I immediately noticed a tall present that
couldn't even fit under the tree. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart!" My mother joyfully exclaimed.
My dad whipped out his camera right away to take a picture of his girls. I pulled my knotted hair
back into a low ponytail and smiled for the picture, hoping that big present was mine. "Who's
present is that?" Emily asked, pointing at the one I was eyeing earlier. My mom told her that
we're going to open that last. Finally, the time came to open the tall gift. It was, in fact, for me.
Once I had the okay from my parents, I clawed at it and all I felt was cardboard, thick hard–to–open
cardboard. I began to see on the box an image of the neck of a guitar. "No way!" I exclaimed, "Did
you get me a real guitar?" Tearing the wrapping paper apart even faster now, I saw the full picture
on the box. In the corner, it stated that it came with five guitar picks, a capo, and a tuner. I've been
talking about wanting this for months, and now it's finally here! My dad was looking for a pair
of good scissors to open the cardboard. Once he found them, he looked up and asked, "So, what do
you think, Sarah?" "I love it!" I joyously replied. As my dad was opening the box, revealing the
guitar and all of its embellishments, I gazed at the six–string instrument with wide eyes like a little
kid looking at all the candy they got on Halloween. "Now, Sarah," My mother explained, "with this
guitar comes responsibility. You have to be careful with it and not let your friends use it in case they
break it." "Mom, relax. They wouldn't do that," I told her with an annoyed tone.
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