Love all these stories! So good.
My favorite memories of opening packs are the ones my mom would get for me and we'd open together. She always was into my hobbies whatever they were. She was as excited as I was when we'd pull the last card needed for a set. I submitted this story to another site a few years ago, but I think it fits well here too:
My somewhat unhealthy obsession with baseball cards began in 1987. After purchasing my first card -- a 1986 Sportflics Pete Rose -- from my neighbor, I was hooked. Spring came, and the green and yellow boxes of cardboard gold arrived in our town. Don Mattingly, in my eyes less a baseball player and more a deity, was on the box. It was fate. Sure, those wood borders were ugly as sin, but I couldn't have cared less. How does an eight-year-old kid scrounge up enough money to attempt to build a 792-card set, you ask? He runs to his mother and begs, that's how. I did my share of chores that summer. Dusting. Vacuuming. Sweeping. But my mom's weakness was breakfast. She loved going out and enjoying her morning coffee, eggs and toast. I knew that if I went with her, she'd always surprise me with a few packs. I know now she just wanted to spend time with me, and if she had to bribe me a little, so be it. After my mom passed in 2004, I found a box of 1987 Topps neatly hidden in our basement where countless Christmas presents had undoubtedly been nestled over the years. One more reminder of those fun summers with my mom, Don Mattingly, and a whole lot of stale bubble gum.
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