So my mother told me on Christmas morning that she had yet to receive two of my gifts in the mail, which I quickly forgot about after getting a year’s subscription to Chelsea Magazine. But last night one of my other presents arrived in the mail. I opened the envelope and inside was the Centennial Chelsea Autobiography of the club. It was a used copy, but I didn’t care. I was downright giddy.
My mother paged through it and said, “Oh it’s signed to someone, that’s odd. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
Then she showed me the title paged that was signed. There in my very own book was the loopy signature I’d been pining over for the past 3 years.
Yes, Frank Lampard, my favorite player in the whole entire universe had signed and touched the very book that was in my hands. I screamed. Loudly. (There also may have been some jumping, leaping, and making of sounds that I had only heard in videos of Twilight fans meeting Robert Pattinson.)
Although it’s not signed to me, I don’t care. It’s kind of cool that my wish came true. I actually DID get Frank Lampard for Christmas!
P.S. Faith, if you would like your book back. Let me know. I realize that if this had so much importance to me it must have A LOT more for you.