Mom and I were rooting through a box of my old playschool papers today, weeding out the boring items and assembling a stack of goodies. It appears I was an exuberant and preciously insane child. I drew pages upon pages full of hearts, interspersed with the odd trapezoid. Most animals I drew were given a crown and long, effeminate hair sticking out at a 45-degree angle to their bodies. Everything was fervently, heavily scribbled in purple, pink and blue crayon. I wrote a great many stories, and had elaborate apostrophes shaped like fishhooks.
Mom unearthed this dialogue from 1993:
Mom: There aren't any clean spoons. We'll have to do some dishes.
Me: A spoon is not a dish.
Mom: What's a dish?
Me: A dish is a condition.
Mom: What is a condition?
Me: A condition is a big song with dances with it. If you sing a song and do a dance with it, it's a condition.
Among the papers were some rudimentary, light-handed crayon drawings made by my best friend, Chris. His last name, which I've been trying to remember for years, was also there. Wonder if he remembers me...
Kate saw this and asked me how old you were when you drew this picture, and I showed her that you said playschool. After which she said "How did she know how to spell plankton?...Freakishly gifted child"
ReplyDelete:)