Tuesday, October 05, 2010


You’ll recall those coupons we made as younger ones, those we crudely made out of kindergarten scissors and construction paper and markers and crayons? They’re the ones where we’d promise BREAKFAST IN BED or WE DO YOUR DISHES or what not, usually to your mom, she being the one who seemed more overworked of your parents. We couldn’t afford the sleeker Hallmark cards, so it’s the do-it-ourselves coupons that we gravitated to, largely out of necessity. We didn’t have the cash to buy the already thought-out Made For Them thoughts, nor the car to drive ourselves to the store, so we gave our time in coupons, ones that almost never got cashed in.

I wonder how self-serving it would seem of me, now that my family is far away and now that brothers and sisters and the like have gone about creating their own, that I make coupons for myself, ones that I could pass out at will. Like, say I needed a hug and knew who gave the best one? They’d get a coupon. Maybe with glitter around the edges. Say I got turned down, after asking out that office temp I got along so splendidly with, due to her string of bad relationships and her possibility of moving away at the end of the month? The coupon would serve as a do over of sorts, a GET OUT OF REJECTION FREE promise, one she couldn’t refuse. She’d sigh dejectedly, then tell me that, yes, she does eat dinner now and again. We’d enjoy one another’s company as a result of my imaginative prowess.

Or, well, maybe I’d have one that’d entice a close friend to fly a couple thousand miles from her state to mine, I’d take the day off from work and we’d maybe visit a beach, share some of those memories we still enjoy revisiting, then finish things up with a rock show, one where we knew all the words to the songs and both adored all they seemed to stand for and communicate. She'd fly home the next morning and that'd be that.

I’m not sure what I’d call it, exactly, but it might say something along the lines of IN NEED OF HAPPINESS, CASH IN or REDEEMABLE FOR UNGUARDED SMILES. You know, something terribly cheesy and truly necessary.


sarah nicole said...

Just be careful with those tiny scissors. They can cut up your favorite pink dress if you get too zealous. They can cut a chunk of your grandpa's hair. Twice. And your cat's. So, just be careful . . .

emj said...

i love this post kess.