Astronaut Ice-Cream

When I was in the fourth grade, I got invited to my friend Timmy’s laser-tag birthday party. It was one of those places that served you astronaut ice cream instead of cake. When I showed up, before my Mom left me alone with relative strangers- as is custom for children’s birthday parties, there was a moment of confusion as we both realized that I was the only girl there. Someone, I assume Timmy’s cousin (but we’ll call him Jerk-Face-McGee for the moment), had also noticed this anomaly.

“What’s SHE doing here?” he demanded.
“I’m here to kick your butt at laser-tag!” you can tell my humility knows no bounds.
“Nuh-uh! No girls allowed!”
Then my friend Timmy, God bless his soul, stood up for me by declaring,
“That’s not a girl! That’s Lee!!”
And that is, in a nutshell, my childhood.

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