Gangnam Style Birthday
May 1, 2023 – Lexington, Kentucky, USA
Megan McLain was not leaving Walmart until she had the biggest, most obnoxious toy in the store. She was determined to be the favorite aunt of her nephew, Bryce. To maintain her position, her birthday present to Bryce needed to outshine anything else.
Megan’s sister, Lisa, provided all kinds of suggestions for what a three-year-old wanted in a present. Megan ignored the advice. She did not like Lisa’s boring transformation since becoming a mom. Her sense of fun was replaced by bedtimes, car seats, and fruit snacks.
The best items on Walmart’s shelves were located between the toy and bike aisles. Megan stopped in front of a large cardboard box with one side panel exposed. Inside sat the most colorful plastic motorcycle she had ever seen. Every inch was covered in stickers and glitter. Tassels hung from the handlebars. The chaotic decoration scheme must have been designed by a team of six-year-olds.
A large red button was built into the motorcycle’s right handgrip. Labels on the outer packaging encouraged potential buyers to press the button. Megan reached over and poked at it with her index finger, expecting to hear a horn sound. Instead, the interior of the toy motorcycle lit up like a tanning bed. LED lights around the seat spasmed uncontrollably. From somewhere inside the motorcycle, poor-quality speakers blared a police-siren version of the song Gangnam Style. The distorted lyrics echoed through the store.
Op, op, op, op
Oppa Gangnam Style
Eh, sexy lady
Op, op, op, op
Oppa Gangnam Style
Megan froze, expecting Walmart security to rush from the checkout lanes to the toy aisles. When no one arrived, and there was no need to stumble over an excuse for the noise, Megan doubled over in hysterical laughter. How could the outrageous motorcycle be real? Did the makers have the rights to use the Gangnam Style song or had they simply pirated the music? Megan did not care. She had to have the motorcycle. By comparison, every other present at Bryce’s party would be as forgettable as new underwear.
When Megan arrived at her sister’s house, the motorcycle box was disguised inside bright orange wrapping paper. The home’s interior did not usually feel so crowded, but it was stuffed with extended relatives and neighborhood friends. Six enormous boxes of pizza sat on the kitchen table. Kids ate their slices while watching a Disney movie on the family room TV. Most adults ate while discussing kids. Megan hung out in a corner, scrolling on her phone.
“Okay everyone! Time for cake and presents!” Lisa loudly announced. “Let’s have Bryce sit at the table and everyone can watch.”
Bryce was more interested in the TV than anything going on at the table. His mom dragged him over and strapped him into his booster seat. When his cake and lit candles appeared, Bryce acted like the fire was meant to burn off his hair. He cried through the Happy Birthday song and leaned away from the cake as his parents encouraged him to blow out his candles. His mom finally did it for him and the audience clapped.
“I guess I got your wish,” Lisa said with a smile as she pulled the extinguished candles from the cake.
With the candles gone, Bryce calmed down and wiped at his tears. He repeated the phrase he had practiced for the occasion: “Bryce three.” He was not very good with his R’s or L’s, so it sounded more like “Bwyce thwee.”
“Now for some presents while we cut the cake!” Lisa announced, placing wrapped packages on the table in front of Bryce.
Bryce was shown how to peel the wrapping paper from a present and he quickly got the hang of it. He unwrapped some picture books and small metal cars and happily realized they were his to keep.
“Let’s go for something bigger!” Megan shouted. “Bryce, look at my present!”
She pushed the box covered in orange paper toward Bryce’s chair. Before she could lift it to the table, Lisa said, “Leave it on the floor. Let him open it down there. But I wish this could wait until the end.”
Megan pulled Bryce from his booster seat and dropped him beside the present. She tore at the orange paper to demonstrate how he should unwrap. Bryce took the hint and quickly ripped away the paper hiding the box’s open side panel. When her realized what was inside, he screamed.
“I wanna wide it! I wanna wide it! I wuv it! I wuv it!”
“Open the rest of your presents first,” Lisa urged.
“I wanna wide it!”
“Let him ride it. He won’t be able to sit still until he does,” Megan said with obvious satisfaction.
Lisa frowned but let Bryce continue ripping off paper. Megan helped him pull the motorcycle from the box and climb aboard. His thumb immediately pushed the red button on the handlebars. The lights inside and outside ignited. Then an explosion of sound rocked the house – Oppa Gangnam Style.
The crowd of birthday onlookers dove for cover. Bryce’s eyes and mouth stretched open to fill his entire face. As soon as the music stopped, he hit the button again. His gleeful screams mixed with the pounding lyrics and the motorcycle lurched around the table as he pushed off the ground with his feet.
Megan clapped and laughed like she won a contest.
Lisa shouted, “You can ride it later! Let’s finish opening the presents!”
“Wide now! Wide now!” Bryce yelled. He refused to get off the motorcycle and kept his finger on the red button.
Lisa tried passing out cake to keep her guests from leaving, but the house quickly cleared out as Gangnam Style relentlessly pounded the walls. Megan escaped with the rest of the crowd. She did not bother to say goodbye and was still giggling as she drove away. She bragged to her friends that she had delivered a little fun and spontaneity to her sister’s life.
When Megan shopped for her spontaneous gift, she did not think about her promise to babysit for her sister over the weekend. Lisa and her husband were headed to their first overnight couple’s getaway since Bryce was born. When Lisa called on Thursday to remind her sister of their plans, Megan acted like she had not forgotten. She showed up on Friday evening carrying a bag bulging with clothes and beauty supplies.
Stepping into Lisa’s house triggered a memory about the musical motorcycle and Megan asked smugly, “Is Bryce still having fun with my present?”
“I never got to thank you for that,” Lisa replied sarcastically. “He calls it his truck. He calls everything with wheels a truck.”
“Where is it?” Megan asked with a laugh.
“I convinced him the truck should stay in the basement. But don’t worry, you can still clearly hear it up here.”
Megan giggled to herself about the motorcycle as Lisa explained Bryce’s feeding and nap schedule. “Yeah, yeah. I got it,” Megan said confidently.
“This is his first time overnight with anyone but us. I don’t want him to freak out.”
“He’ll be fine.”
“You’ll be in the guest bedroom, right next to him.”
“I got it. Don’t worry.”
When his parents gave Bryce a final goodbye hug, he realized something unusual was happening. He bawled and remained in agony when Mommy and Daddy disappeared.
“Wanna watch a movie?” Megan asked, desperately trying to distract him. “How about my phone? You wanna look at my phone?”
Bryce cried louder.
“How about your truck? Shall we play with the truck? We can bring it upstairs where it belongs.”
Bryce suddenly went silent before saying, “Bwyce twuck.”
“Right. Let’s go get your truck.”
Bryce slid down the stairs to the bare basement room. Holiday decorations stored in plastic tubs were stacked along one wall. A pile of neglected toys lay next to the opposite wall. The motorcycle stood as the room’s centerpiece. Bryce jumped aboard and ignited the lights and music.
“Upstairs!” called Megan. She helped Bryce off the motorcycle and hefted it to the main floor.
“Bwyce twuck!” he cried happily. He pushed it around the kitchen and family room with Gangnam Style blaring constantly.
Megan sat on a couch watching. At first, she giggled. It was cute. She was sure that Bryce would lose interest and move on to something quieter. An hour later, he was still circling the couch.
“Do you want something to eat? How about watching a movie?” Megan shouted.
Bryce stayed focused on his moving light and music show.
After a few more minutes, Megan turned on the TV and started an animated movie. “Look! Sit up here and watch with me!”
Bryce and the motorcycle kept rolling.
Megan turned up the TV volume until it almost matched Gangnam Style. Bryce smiled like he enjoyed the spontaneous fun. Megan covered her ears and worried about the neighbors. Surely, they could hear the noise almost as well as she could.
“Stop! Stop!” Megan cried, putting one leg in front of the motorcycle’s path. “You have to eat dinner. You have to get ready for bed.”
Bryce did not want to stop and he rammed the motorcycle into Megan’s leg. He bawled as she pulled him off the seat and tried to negotiate. She made a series of rash promises to calm him down: He could have ice cream for dinner. He could sleep with the motorcycle next to his bed. He could ride it as much as he wanted tomorrow.
Bryce finally gave in and ate his dinner. “I wike ice cweam,” he concluded. Megan buried the nutritious meal prepared by Lisa under existing garbage in the trash compactor.
When Bryce got in bed, the motorcycle’s red button was only an arm’s reach away. Megan listened to samples of Gangnam Style first on the couch and then in the guest bedroom. The gaps of silence between button pushes grew longer until Megan was convinced Bryce was sleeping. She planned to say up much later than him but the noise and negotiating left her exhausted. She fell into premature unconsciousness with Gangnam Style still running through her head.
The next morning, Megan woke from what she thought was a nightmare to find Bryce pushing the motorcycle back and forth next to her bed. She stumbled to the bathroom with the motorcycle loudly waiting for her outside the door.
Bryce was not interested in breakfast or anything else. The motorcycle constantly circled. The sound sucked the oxygen from the house. Megan put in her earbuds and turned up the volume on her own music. It was not enough. Temporary insanity set in like Jell-o hardening in a mold.
“Stop! No more! It’s going in the basement!”
“Bwyce twuck!”
“I don’t care! I hate it! Get it away from me!”
Bryce wailed and Megan suddenly had an idea. She rushed to the kitchen drawer which held tools. She pulled out a wrench and screwdriver and said to Bryce, “Aunt Megan’s going to fix it. I’ll make it go faster. You want your truck to go faster, right?”
A faster truck sounded pretty good to Bryce so he got off the seat and let Megan turn the whole thing upside down. She was sure she would find a battery compartment somewhere and be able to yank them out, but all the plastic was sealed shut. “How am I supposed to kill the power if I can’t find the batteries?” she muttered to herself. “Where are they? Does it run on magic? I hate this thing! I hate it!”
Megan turned the motorcycle upright, still hoping to find batteries. Bryce leaned over and hit the red button. As Gangnam Style began, Megan yelled, “No!” and pounded the handlebar with the wrench in her hand. The plastic snapped and the portion containing the handgrip and red button dangled below two electric wires.
“Aaaah!” Bryce screeched much louder than he had when his parents disappeared.
“I’ll fix it! I’ll fix it!” Megan cried.
“Bwyce twuck bwoken!”
“No, it’s okay! Look!” Megan hit the dangling red button expecting Gangnam Style to start. The motorcycle stayed silent.
Bryce screeched again as he threw himself on the floor. The sound was even worse than a loop of Gangnam Style.
“We’ll get another one! We’ll go to the store right now!”
Bryce calmed down enough for Megan to get him in a car seat. All the way to Walmart, she assured him they would find another truck that was perfect. When they arrived, she dropped him into a shopping cart and raced to the toy section. A duplicate motorcycle sat on the same shelf she had visited earlier in the week.
“See! Look, another truck!”
Bryce stopped sniffling and broke into a smile. He reached out and touched the new motorcycle’s red button. Instead of Gangnam Style, it played an obnoxious clip from the song Barbie Girl.
Come on Barbie, let’s go party
I’m a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie world
Life in plastic, it’s fantastic
Megan froze, terrified that the song did not match. Bryce, however, grinned even brighter. Barbie Girl was better. He nodded excitedly as he said, “Bwyce new twuck.”
In a moment of exceptional foresight, Megan replied, “This truck is very special. It’s a basement truck. Okay?”
Bryce was so eager to get his hands on the motorcycle, he would have agreed to anything. When they arrived home, Megan carried the truck to the basement before releasing Bryce from his car seat. For the rest of the day, she listened to Barbie Girl, but when originating from the basement, the sound only tapped on her brain instead of pounding.
Bryce’s parents arrived home to their garage to find the broken motorcycle on top of a trash bin. Lisa rushed inside to find Bryce waiting for her. After a quick hug, she turned to Megan with a smirk. “Something happen to the truck?”
“Yes, I tried to fix it and make it better. Something went wrong.”
Lisa chuckled with relieved satisfaction. “Oh really? Sounds like Aunt Megan learned a lesson about what presents she should buy. I’m not sad to see it gone but thank goodness you’re the one who broke it.”
“Yeah, well we had fun anyway,” Megan replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Bryce make his way toward the basement. She quickly grabbed her overnight bag and said, “I’ve gotta run. But I guess you’re right. I did learn a lesson.”
Without another word, Megan hurried out the front door and closed it behind her. She giggled as she pictured Bryce reaching for the button on his new truck. “Sure, I learned a lesson,” she said to herself. “Or did I?”
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