I began wondering why the heck I was “here,” as in in this world, by the age of 3. No one seemed to understand me, even though I figured out language skills early. I’d point to the elves dancing in the bushes outside our small one-story house, and my parents didn’t see them. In fact, they’d shake their head and say, “Pammy.” As if I was doing something wrong!
When I was finally allowed to dress myself, I wore my underwear with the frilly side in the front. Of course. My parents, and their friends, would shake their heads at me, laugh (which was even worse than frown), and say “Pammy…!” I was befuddled. What?! Then my mom tried to explain, “the frills go in the back.”
What good were frills if you couldn’t see them? To this day, and I’m six decades older than that early bewildering time, I still don’t get it.
I’d like to make a story about my awkwardness, but I just feel …. awkward doing so. I imagine most of us, new to this world when we were spanked into it, had a difficult time adjusting. I recently read a post in which a young mother bemoaned all the questions from her young child, like:
- Why does a clock have 12 spots and two “hands”? And why are those lines called “hands”?
- Why can’t I have dessert first, and why do birds not let you catch them?
- Why does the pet dog have fur, but not my parents?
- Why do I have to brush my teeth, when each tooth comes out for the tooth fairy anyway?
I love the questions children ask. They remind me of my own questions. If we can remember our childhood and our view of how crazy the world seemed, we’d be so much wiser. We’ve been cornered and squished into a box with four walls.
So . . . awkward? I felt awkward as I was forced to fit into the box of “normal thinking.” I suppose that’s why I love creative writing so much. This is one place I’m allowed to release the box and fly back out into the limitless space of imagination and the reality of reality – which is that reality does not exist.
How about you? Do you live with the frilly side up?