I was a poor kid. I was a girly-girl poor kid in the 1980s who wanted pretty things and instead had boy's hand me downs. I never had a Cabbage Patch Kid; I never had a charm necklace; I never had a Lisa Frank binder.

I never had a sticker album.

When I opened my sticker package, I almost cried. I had told my Santa that I loved pretty sparkly rainbow things as a child, but I didn't realize until I was holding these sheets and sheets of sweetly colored, happy, girly pictures how much they represented a wealth that had been out of reach for me.

I expected to receive a few cute things that I could use to decorate the few cards and letters that I still send out or maybe use as rewards for my students, but I am not going to do that. I am going to buy a pretty notebook and stick each one of these down in beautiful, self indulgent rows. I am going to keep it and have it and not use it for anything but for being mine. Maybe that sounds dorky, but I don't care.