I thought I was included. I packed happily, even helped Emily pack her clothes.
But on the day of departure, I realized Mom hadn’t bought me a ticket.
She said earnestly,
“You’re too old for Disneyland.”
“Besides, you’ve been to places like that before. Emily hasn’t, so I’ll just take her.”
When I looked upset, she frowned.
“A trip like that is expensive. One less person saves a lot. Why can’t you be considerate of your mom?”
“I raised you both on my own. If you really want to go, make your own money and go later!”
Her words made me feel worthless and guilty.
That summer, while they were gone, I barely spent a few dollars on cucumbers and tomatoes, gnawed on plain noodles without even adding vegetables.
When Mom and Emily returned, glowing with excitement, they discussed all the fun things.
When I didn’t understand, Mom looked at me with disdain.
“You really don’t know as much as your sister.”
But she forgot—
When I was little, the “playgrounds” I’d seen were just makeshift rides in the village.
Disneyland? Emily had never been.
But neither had I.
Back in the present, I returned her words with a smile.