Inside my Brain when I was a Kid
Having recently viewed some old family slides my Dad pulled out of storage, I was reminded of some of my childhood memories. I was the kid making silly faces, perched in an unorthodox position like a gargoyle while everyone else looked “nice”. I certainly marched unashamedly to the beat of my own drummer.
I had some interesting thoughts, words, and actions as kids often do, given their limited understanding of the world. Here is a selection of a few.
When visiting family friends, I quickly noted that the man of the house smoked. I apparently advised him quite immediately and directly that he should not smoke because it would make his lungs black. Awkward…
Perhaps more awkward still was the time I asked loudly from my seat in the grocery cart, “Mommy why does that lady have a mustache?” while pointing at a customer. My mom hurriedly wheeled me out of that aisle, probably trying to hush my inquiry. Alas, who should appear at the checkout line right behind us but the poor mustached woman? My mom was trapped when I again noticed and began to ask again about the other shopper’s facial hair.
I remember learning that sometimes people fainted if they didn’t have enough sugar in their bodies (low blood sugar), so I saved any candies I didn’t particularly like and put them in a little bag (inconveniently tucked in my closet), labeled “In case I faint”. They were never used.
I was very interested in music, and was quite concerned that one day “they” (the people in charge of the world) would decide to change all the electric outlets. (I knew that other countries had differently configured outlets than Canada.) That led to my dread concern that my cassette player could suddenly, and without warning, be rendered useless.
From my extensive dish drying experience, I knew the substantial weight of a stack of dinner plates. They were stored in cupboards with bulkheads attached to the ceiling in our kitchen. I was sure that one day the weight of all those dishes would cause the cupboards to be pulled right off their moorings.
I witnessed two weddings as a youngster. Somehow I thought each pair that walked the aisle together (bridesmaids and groomsmen included) were getting married at that very occasion. I wondered how it was determined which couple got to be the “main ones”; the ones who got to wear the different outfits, and got to say some words. I always hoped that when the time came for me, I would get to be the one wearing the fancy white dress, rather than the matching ones that the secondary couples had to wear.
I thought dogs were male and cats were female. I understand this isn’t that uncommon a belief among kids.
I thought licking ice off a car’s chrome bumper in the bitter winter was a good idea. I paid dearly for that because my tongue was in extreme pain for the rest of the day after I got it off the bumper.
Chewing gum was frowned upon in my house. I think that’s because of how uncouth one might look when absentmindedly gnawing a wad of it. So when I received a package of Hubba Bubba in my treat bag after a kids’ party, I was thrilled. Despite the large size of each piece, I binged. After trying to chew a massive blob of it for some time, my jaws ached. I remember moaning to my mother (perhaps through a sticky pink lump of gum), that I was sure I had mumps. I knew only that mumps was an illness that affected cheeks (I see now that it involved salivary glands, not cheeks specifically). Strangely my mom was less than sympathetic to my ailing condition.
I collected the plastic flowers that people used to decorate the vehicles in a wedding caravan. Living near a scenic area often used as a backdrop for wedding photos, I had a great collection zone.
I later collected fake insects. I was a bit older and my tastes were more refined than those early wedding-flower-collecting days. I actually still have the plastic bug collection. Unlike the days of my youth, however, I now keep them in a container rather than sticky-tacked to my bedroom walls and ceiling.
As a kid, I wanted to be a rock star when I grew up. Oddly, I aspired to the fame and fortune of a cartoon character. Namely “Jem” of the TV show Jem and the Holograms. Perhaps aware that I couldn’t reach Jem’s level of ‘outrageousness’ (I tried, at Halloween, rather unsuccessfully), I was smitten with the haircut of one of her bandmates named Aja. In my colouring book Aja’s hair was layered in three very distinct levels. I insisted that my mom replicate this look when she cut my hair. My three-tiered look involved a huge swath of bangs that came from the middle of my head forward, then I had flaps that hung over my ears, and then at the back whatever was left over just hung there rather less angularly than in the cartoon. Looking at pictures from the time, I’m sorry to say, it was not a successful copycat haircut.
My attempted copycat haircut (cartoons are difficult to successfully imitate) circa age 8
After a classmate managed to break a bone and came to school wearing a cast, it was soon covered with well-wishes and colourful signatures. I wanted (briefly and without real conviction) this hallmark of popularity for myself. So I spent one recess kicking the brick wall of the school in a weak attempt to acquire my very own broken leg.
I still have remnants of my childhood quirks, though I like to think I’m all sorted out and “normal” now, able to appropriately integrate into society. I’m lucky to have had a happy childhood, and to have been loved through it, complete with all my oddities. I’m sure in another 10 years, I will laugh in retrospect at some of my current weird ways, sayings and thoughts. But “normal” is overrated anyway, and as long as I can laugh at myself, all will be well.
My attempt to mimic my cartoon hero “Jem”, one Halloween.
