I've finally realized why, as an adolescent, I took such strange pleasure in showing off my "trick" (for lack of better word... hang on -- oddity, maybe??) which involved me pulling wads of my own hair out of my head without even a flinch.
The only real appeal was the shock on other's faces, and as I got older, I didn't so much need to perform the trick to get the desired response (I'd found bigger, better ways to shock by then), so I finally gave up my circus side-show act.
And as with most of the things I did when I was younger, I've found myself wondering, "why??" over the years: "Why was I able to accomplish such a feat in the first place?" ; "Why did I have such an affinity for displaying this "talent"? ; "Why did no one ever have me committed??"
Finally, after all these years, I have my answers. Had I never been able to yank handfuls of hair from my head without crying, bleeding, or going blind, had I never showed off my abilities to the point of boredom, had I actually been committed for my strange, strange ways, then I never would have been able to survive Jax's recent meltdowns in public, which involve me losing tufts of hair coiled around his fingers in front of masses of people. If this were not already a tired old trick, I would not have been able to continue my shopping expedition this morning with Jax hanging from his tether to my head, or been able to remain calm and level-headed (badumbum, ching!) as all those people watched in horror.
And had I been committed all those years go? Well, my friends, I never would have been able to share this story with you. And that, I'm sure, would have really been a shame.
(Now if only I'd been blessed with indestructable facial tissue able to withstand wrinkles, lines, and angry toddler scratches...)
Cowboy Pete by The Pioneer Woman
1 day ago