Birthday Wishes

“Morgy what are you gonna wish for?” said my mom in a high pitch voice as I stared wide eyed at my purple and red cake with only two candles sprouting from the top. “Barney!” I say with a mostly gummy smile. My mom rolled her eyes as she heard the words escape my mouth – she always hated Barney. Even from the start, we didn’t always agree.

When my sixth birthday came around, all I could talk about was a dog. It was my number one priority. Looking back it is kind of selfish, but what else can you expect of a five year old. That year I obviously wished for a dog, and in the following month received a white fluffy, crazy, ball of fun. My mom didn’t like him at first, but since he was my favorite dog from the pet store, she learned to love him. I named him Buster, after Buster Baxter from the T.V. show Arthur.

Looking back, eighth grade was the best year of elementary school for me. No homework, great friends, and no worries. I don’t think I went a day without laughing. My wish for my thirteenth birthday that year was to always be that happy, for the rest of my life.

Freshman year started off as a boom of excitement. I had a good group of friends and my first real boyfriend. It would have topped eighth grade if my mom hadn’t been sad for four of the months. Five weeks after it happened, I would find my mom weeping while looking at pictures of him. I knew I missed my puppy, but I never realized how much Buster had meant to her. That year for my fifteenth birthday I decided to stop making wishes for myself, and I wished that my mom would find happiness again.

This year I’m gonna turn eighteen. It freaks me out to say the least. I feel that those numbers mean I have to act mature because I will be considered an adult. Some days I just don’t feel ready for that. Every other word I hear come out of my mom’s mouth is “college.” I cringe at the sound of the letters leaving my mom’s lips. To make matters worse she wants, no NEEDS me to go to DePaul University. We have daily fights because I know I want to go to Madison. I applied to DePaul last week, unwillingly. I don’t know what I’m going to wish for. This year has been stressful enough and I don’t want to make more decisions than I need to. My plan is to not plan for once. To close my eyes, and hope that something comes to me as I blow away my childhood.