I don't have any clue how old I was but I was relatively young, maybe eight years old. We had gone to the state fair and my sister and I had won matching, cheesy teddy bears. Mine was blue, hers was pink (that's how I know it had to be the state fair).
I don't recall how it happened but my bear got lost or destroyed. Whatever happened, it upset me. I recall laying in my bed crying one night. My sister's bedroom shared a wall with mine so she couldn't help but hear me.
I annoyed her quite a bit during that time so, obviously, I was annoying her by crying. She came into my room and asked me, in that tone of voice of hers, just exactly what I was crying about. "I want my bear." Thinking I was being a baby she rolled her eyes (I wasn't looking at her but she must have - she did that a lot in regards to me back then) and she left.
I kept crying.
For several minutes.
I was really devastated.
Look, this isn't a story about me being upset. Stop focusing on it. It's embarrassing enough as it is but I do have a point and it relates to my sister, not me.
I mean it - stop it. Stop imagining me as a blubbering child missing his teddy bear. It's not cute, it's... it's... disconcerting to even remember it but it's important to the story. So stop it.
Anyway, my crying obviously continued to annoy her because she eventually opened the door to my room, threw her pink bear at me and said, "Here. Now shutup."
I did. I curled up and went to sleep. I was very grateful to my sister for sacrificing her possession so I could be happy. She told me it was just to get me to shut up so she could get some sleep. That probably was her motivation but I really appreciated it.
And now... my point. Ever since then my sister has had this knack for getting me presents that I absolutely love but didn't even know I wanted. (okay, there was the "sweater incident" but even George Lucas had the Ewoks Christmas)