April 6, 2002

• Childhood.
  I was watching my daughter referee a heated argument between her stuffed elephant and her teddy bear when it struck me how beautiful the imagination is. 2 years ago, my daughter could barely comprehend the nose at the end of my face, let alone imagine complicated scenarios involving the spilling of juice on a carpet that wasn't her fault. (It's all the fault of something that was bought at the Hudson's Bay Company and has a tag attached).
  Where did that come from?
  She thinks that her bear is real. She really does. She tells it off and smacks it when she thinks I am not looking. She stands it in the corner and does a killer imitation of me wagging my finger and attempting to look stern.
  She really believes.
  Which makes me remember all the things that were crucial to my little bubble of childhood and that gradually got discarded or winnowed away in my quest to be a 'grownup'.

  
  

  Things I believed as a child:

  
  

  
  
  • That if I put on a bath towel and tied it around my neck with a clothespin - I could in fact, fly and read people's thoughts.
  
  
  • That if I prayed hard enough, my wish would come true. It took be a long time to get over the loss of this belief.
  
  
  • That stepping on a crack on the sidewalk would indeed break my mothers back.
  
  
  • That if I swallowed an apple seed, it would grow in my tummy.
  
  
  • That Bambi was a real deer.
  
  
  • That boys hated girls.
  
  
  • That my toys came out and played at night when I was asleep.
  
  
  • That if you shaved your legs, it would grow back so hairy you'd be an ape and have to shave them every day for the rest of your life.
  
  
  • That they put special dye in swimming pools that would turn red if you peed.
  
  
  • That my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. She lit up rooms. (Actually she still does).
  
  
  • That my father was the strongest the bravest and most importantly - the tallest man in the world. There was nothing he didn't know. (I am pretty much still convinced on this one, actually)
  
  
  • That being a teenager would be great.
  
  
  • That something lived under my bed, and waited till my mother kissed me good night before it started breathing and waiting for me to hang my foot over the edge of the mattress.
  
  
  • That you could put off wearing a bra by punching yourself in the chest to push them back in.
  
  
  • That babies were made when you got a boy's tongue in your mouth.
  
  
  • That little tiny people lived among the blades of grass on our lawn and if you left out your dollhouse or your toy cars, they thought it was a present from the sky.
  
  
  • That you could send babies back where they came from. I spent 6 years of my life as a disgruntled former star of the family, fervently wishing my sisters back into the ether. I am so glad that didn't work. Adulthood is better with sisters.

  
  

  My child reminds me of these things. There's no greater gift than being able to remember the fantasies of childhood, I think. Maybe kids do keep you young. I just wish I remembered that more often.
  

  • 12:42 am
  • 16 Comments