What If You Don't Want What You Win?

Maybe because of the snow across the culdesac, maybe because my neighbor sits too long in a winter salt covered car before going into the house, maybe its this morning's background music from the '14 reissue of Sega Genesis (I never played "Flicky" when I was a kid), but I feel ready to reach into the 12" dessert glass and choose a napkin, with my eyes closed.


...After the last sip of coffee in my cup.


(Stirring the napkins with my hand, closed eyes, I am choosing). 
...I am stirring too long.  I'm second guessing.  Am I nervous?  


I usually don't win when my number is in the "hat."  But this is not a contest.


I stir, I'm surprised by the weight of the napkins; they are heavier than door prize tickets. 


(With my eyes closed I see my ungrateful nine year old self standing in the cold old auditorium.  We had basketball practice there, the basketballs were slick dark leather-hard to manage.  I can't date the basketballs, but it was the early eighty's for me, and shorts were not long.  When my skin is cold and exposed it becomes leopard like-blotchy in purples and pinks and obvious.  I hated basketball practice in the cold old auditorium. 


This day though, was town day, all of us where there, eating, bargaining, throwing people in "jail."   Good times in a small town.   We'd all be at the town dance later where local farmers made up the band.


On town day my family's name was called.  We won a Cabbage Patch Kid.  
In that season of life, I also won, at times, cleaning out my little brother's cloth diapers...why was there corn, so much corn?


One of the popular things about the Cabbage Patch Kid was it's changeable diaper and ready-to-be personalized Adoption Certificate.  What I didn't want was something else in my room with a diaper.  And I hadn't signed on any dotted line yet to keep my brother.  One of the kids had to go, I tried first to make my brother do it.)


The chosen napkin is upside down in front of me.
Flip.


"Some times we can't see our own arrows."


Ooo, this one is deep.  I remember writing this.
I need a minute, but I will tell you.