MIDL 425 – 001
How the Pink Ranger Stole Christmas
It was the most wonderful time of the year. Big, fluffy snowflakes were gently floating to the ground as the partly cloudy sky allowed the sun to peak through every so often. The smell of pine, peppermint, and freshly baked pizelles filled the air. Driving through the neighborhood, decorated houses resembled a nighttime sky of lights. Of course, I am talking about the time of the year when the new Power Rangers VHS was released. This was the biggest day, the most exciting thing that could happen in my carefree kindergarten life. Obviously I was just as excited for Santa to come a week later, but I couldn’t get too ahead of myself. First thing first: memorize every single thing the Pink Ranger says and does in the new movie.
I was a lucky little child that I did not have to wait until Christmas to get my new movie. I guess that is a prime example of grandparents spoiling their grandchildren. Notice how I said children, as in plural. Just a few months earlier, on September 9th to be exact, someone new joined my family. I was not bitter about a new baby brother; I was actually really excited. I couldn’t wait to help take care of Hayden in every way possible, most of the time doing it wrong and waiting for my mom to frantically pull him away to do it right. I knew he was still too young to fully soak in the true greatness of the Power Rangers dynasty, but I was thrilled to show him Christmas for the first time.
About one week before the main event of this story, we took Hayden to Grandma’s house so that my mom, my dad and I could go pick out the ideal tree for the designated corner of the family room. At that age, the Christmas tree nursery was a magical forest that spanned for miles, full of the fattest and tallest evergreens, fraser firs, and blue spruces. In reality, it is just a quaint place on Route 8, but they always seem to have the perfect match for the Seserko family. After an extensive search through the aisles, we found a great tree that I was positive Hayden would love; he was only a few months old, but already had quite an eye for detail. With the tree tied tight to the roof of our Blazer, my family and I picked up my brother and headed back home to decorate. My mom was really eager to use a set of new bulbs and ornaments that she recently bought. They were so shiny, and really looked wonderful on our brightly lit Christmas tree. With Christmas music playing in the background, Santa hats sitting on our heads, and a plate of pizelle cookies in close vicinity for snacking, I still love decorating the tree with my family.
If you are wondering how any of this relates to the Power Rangers, the plot thickens here. As soon as my Grandma bought me the new movie, the VHS immediately became worn and tattered from the in-and-outs of the tape player. It did not take me long (and by that, I mean roughly one day) until I had the movie memorized. Better yet, the family room was arranged in the perfect set-up for Power Ranger action. As the Pink Ranger, I was able to soar off of the couch, climb under the coffee table, and now, use the Christmas tree as a hiding spot. My imagination was awesome, and I was the most devoted fan. If the Power Rangers ever needed a Purple Ranger, I was for sure going to be their first-round pick. Although, I would have much preferred to replace the Pink Ranger any day; I was just as good, if not better.
I could mighty-morph for hours on end, and although this was typical, my parents were always impressed at my dedication. I even lost interest in Hayden for a few days (sorry, brother).
One day in the early afternoon, my mom was upstairs trying to put Hayden down for a nap. Before my new movie transformed me into an imaginary superhero, I usually liked to join her in these attempts, even though I tended to just make the job harder. But now that I was enthralled in my new world, I decided to skip this event for the day, because I had morphing to do. As my VHS was rewinding, I watered the tree like my mom asked me to do, and then plugged in the lights. That tree was beautiful! Click. The tape was ready, and so was I. The Power Rangers theme song was just music to my ears.
Jumping, kicking, karate-chopping, I was in the zone. Multiple times, my mom yelled down at me to settle and keep quiet; she was trying to put my brother to sleep, after all. I would comply for a couple seconds, but this colorful crew always got the best of me, and it wasn’t long until I was right back to acting out each scene of the movie. My favorite part was coming up: when the Pink Ranger leaps from a hill top, right into the perfect position for attacking the enemy. This is my moment to shine, I thought, as I climbed to the back of the couch. Timing it perfectly, I soared off the couch just as she soared off the hill. The only difference? When she landed, she struck the enemy with one crisp kick. When I landed, the beautiful Christmas tree that my family loved fell on top of me. Oops.
I quickly jumped up, brushing the pines off of my clothes, and saw dirty water and shiny ornaments spewed everywhere. The tree looked so pathetic lying on the ground, discombobulated.
“WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS THAT?!” I heard my mom scream from upstairs.
My heart was pounding, and I imagine my face closely resembling one that deer make as a car skids towards them. My mind was racing as my mom rushed into the family room with a crying Hayden in her arms. The end credits of the movie were playing on the T.V. screen.
“Hilary, what happened?! Oh my gosh, the tree!!” my mom frantically shrieked, as she hurried over to the crime scene.
At first I told her I had nothing to do with it. But, I think even Hayden knew better than to believe that. I started to cry and kept apologizing. Even though I didn’t mean to cause trouble, my mom was still upset. In fact, she was so distraught that my dad had to come home from work early to help clean up the mess and fix the tree. Needless to say, he was not too happy with me either.
It turns out that not only did I morph so hard that I knocked the tree over, but I also broke the tree stand. While I was secretly proud of my powerful action moves, I was embarrassed at happened, and I was sad that the perfect tree we decorated with my mom’s new ornaments was ruined. A lot of them broke, while others got dented or scratched. We were able to salvage the tree, but my dad did have to go buy a new tree stand. To add to my embarrassment, he bought one of the most extreme, hard-core, and expensive stands he could find. He did not want to take any other chances, since clearly nobody could stop me from putting my heart and soul into pretending to be a part of that superhero crew.
“The Power Rangers caused this mess, maybe they should come and clean it up!” my dad would say.
“Could they really?!” I would gasp. But no, it turns out he just liked being sarcastic.
This gem of a story seems to resurface every year around that time when big, fluffy snowflakes gently float to the ground, the smell of pine, peppermint, and freshly baked pizelles fill the air, and the neighborhood lights up like a nighttime sky. This time around, I am actually talking about Christmas. Shockingly enough, I did grow out of my Power Ranger phase. That doesn’t matter, though, because the story of how the Pink Ranger stole Christmas of ’96 never fails to come up during the big Christmas family dinner.