My Game Boy, Your Game Boy
When I was just a tadpole of 12 years, there was this pal of mine from the very same apartment block where I resided. So here’s the thing, one sunny day he and his mom escort my family on a daylight excursion to the lakeside.
He brings with him a fancy schmancy glacier-blue game boy advance, leaving me green with envy clutching my simple game boy color.
At the end of our little adventure, we saw them off at their place. That’s when I spotted his forgotten game boy tucked between our car’s rear seats. I mince my words. My lips remain sealed.
The real sting in the tale is that whenever he visited, I put on my poker face and fibbed that it was a new gadget from my mom, which coincidentally was the exact same game that he had misplaced.