Saturday, October 3, 2009

I never did like to brush my hair...

Sometimes I have these little epiphany moments in life wherein I realize that I'm pretty much exactly the same now as I was when I was a child, only, well... taller. Most times these moments strike me due to things I do or say that remind me that you don't cease to be a child unless you're willing to put away those childish things (Paul was way ahead of me). Sometimes I find these childish vestiges of me in old essays, notebooks, or journals of mine, but I recently managed to find a quote from an old school paper of a sister of mine that made me laugh. She had done character sketches of each member of our family, stating how old they were and a little thing or two about their life at that moment (K was sixteen, just gotten her drivers license, C was a baby and just sort of hung around, etc.), and reading mine was like reading something she might have written about me today. It was in the fall of 1996, and this was her perception of me:

"Jo is six years old and in second grade. She enjoys making lunches and singing more than brushing her hair!"

Switch out "lunches" for "suppers" and "six" for "twenty," and it would be as believable now as it was then.

Of course, now I'm plagued with questions about whether or not posterity can get a grasp on what I was really like without having access to the papers and musings of all of my siblings. I've been considering staging a takeover of all relevant papers, but have determined that since the Lord is coming soon, I don't have to worry about such not-entirely-kosher activities. I shudder to consider the full extent of damage I could cause to all of my familial relationships...

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