Merry X-mas (The War is Over)

The year: 2003. The day: Saturday. Time: Morning.

I woke up one Saturday morning in 2003. I could hear my family milling about in
the kitchen, roaming in and out of the living room, getting their day underway.
I rolled out of bed with one thing on my mind; Cinnamon Toast Crunch. However, my mind quickly shifted when I saw the note that had been slipped under my bedroom door.

It was clearly my mothers handwriting on a piece of white paper one would
write a shopping list on. On it, in blue ink, were 4 simple words, "THE
WAR IS OVER." The war is over? I thought. HOLY SHIT, THE WAR IS OVER!!!

Immediately, my mind raced with CNN news clips of the troops pulling out of Iraq, thus adverting further US submergence into additional Middle East skirmishes. My ultimate fear of the reinstatement of the draft, ultimately leading to my inevitable drafting, was now eradicated.

I opened my bedroom door, waiting for my parents to tell me our country was not
doomed after all. 'Good morning,' my mom said. "GOOOOD
Mornin'," I whistled back. I took a seat at the kitchen table, poured my
cereal, tapped my feet to the rhythm of Stars and Stripes Forever.
But still, no one was telling me any good news. My dad was watching infomercials, not the 24 hour coverage that would celebrate the end of our involvement in Iraq.

Finally, I said smugly, "So, we're out of Iraq?"

My mom looked at me, clearly confused, "Huh?"

"You know, I saw the note you slipped under my door. THE WAR IS OVER."
I showed her the note. 'Man,that was fast. Stupid George Bush. At least he
got us out of there.'

My mom didn't say anything. "Oh that note." I looked at her,
confused. "Your brother just told me to write that and put it under your
door."

I was as confused as you might feel, reading all of this pointless bullshit. That's just
what the note was; pointless bullshit from my pointless bullshit little
brother. "Why'd he ask you to write that?" I asked, the sinking feeling of a
country in flames crashing into my soul, thus thrusting me back all my panic
attacks of one day having to fight in a war (I like movies about Vietnam).

"I don't know why. He just told me to write that."

To this day, I am mad at my little brother, seven years my junior, for telling
my mom to write me stupid notes that have important connotations related to our
countries well being. I didn't even consider myself patriotic in anyway back then.
I just like exciting news.