The foolish antics of a foolish child

When I was kid, I used to believe everything required fair attention and treatment. I was a bit neurotic about this and would kiss each of my stuffed animals equally before I went to bed. If I kissed one cheek on my bunny, it meant I had to kiss the other side, so that the other side wouldn't be jealous. This of course, meant I had to do the same double kiss to all my stuffed animals. Invariably, bedtime took an hour because of this ritual.

When I used to walk to and from school, I would count how many steps I took on each square block of pavement so that the next would also receive the same treatment. If I started with my right foot on the first block and ended on my left foot, the next square block would mean I would have to start with my left foot, and end with my right. If I went to school on the East side of the street, it meant I had to go home on the West side of the street. The next day I would have to reverse it.

Looking back on all this, one might think it were a bit Obsessive compulsive, and I wouldn't blame them. I often find myself repeating things over and over again, not even realising I have been doing it. It seems to occupy my mind while I mentally mull over things, sort of like elevator music while grocery shopping. I've grown used to it and I've also toned it down. No longer do I count my steps and the amount of times I bite my food on my left, or right side.

All of this I believe might have some bearing on why I am always able to argue and see both sides to an issue. I find it particularly frustrating dealing with bull-headed individuals who aren't willing to step out of their sheltered coccoon to discuss and converse about ideas, be they in agreement or not. One can never agree with everything another person says - that's absurd. I recently told Nomi that as friends we can't just blindly agree with one another because we think we have to. As good friends we have to be willing to say the truth, and in turn be willing to hear the truth. That's what friends are for. That is what friends are.

The frustration wasn't any different then my childhood OCD complex. If I was somehow prevented from completing my "equalizing" exercises (so I call them now), I would fret and freak about not having done things properly. If I was walking home with a school friend who insisted on walking on the West side, when everyone knew that we had to walk on the East side, I would plot revenge on my fellow walker for thwarting my attempts at satisfying my mania.

It wasn't until I was older that I began to realise how truly odd I was. Well, "realisation" is not so much the word as "obvious". It comes fast when kids call you "freak" or "loser" all the time. I wasn't exactly a kid that attracted the right kind of attention. I was always in trouble, and considered a bit of a scholastic moron. Grades were not my forte and math was even worse and I have the strong suspicion that I had Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). All of these characteristics are still there, but rather than run from them, I suppose I embrace it now. When you're a lonely kid on the outside, you can either choose to completely turn inward, or you try harder to succeed and thrive.

Mum and Dad actually thought I was retarded and were scared to have another kid. They love to regale their friends and family with the story of how as a child I would bang my head quite violently on the bed or pillow to go to sleep. The story goes that when they came to Canada and visited my A-po (grandmother) they put me to bed in my crib. I immediately started to bang my soft little head on the pillow to the horror of my grandmother, who in turn also thought I was retarded. They left the room and came back 10 minutes later to check up on me and found the crib had moved across the wooden floor from one wall to the other.

This odd behaviour developed even further as I grew. I could never sit still, never focus, and would lie about just about anything. As mentioned before, I have always had a salt craving, and love chips. My mum does as well, and she would often stock her cupboard with bags of chips. I would come home from school, tear a bag open and eat it, then stop in horror at what I had done. In desperation, I came up with the brilliant idea to take a pair of scissors and chew the bag up, later claiming mice were in the house and had gotten into the bag. My poor parents actually entertained this and went out and bought mouse traps filled with peanut butter. When we didn't catch anything, I told them it was because they didn't put chips in the trap.

This brilliance of mine got me in more trouble than I'd like to say, like my Report card episode, which I wrote about before (re-excerpted below)

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I still remember Report Card Day, when report cards were handed out, for us to give to our parents. Who does such a thing? I was terrified, and upon opening it to see a plethora of C’s, D’s and the occasional E, I decided it would be a brilliant idea to use Liquid paper to cover them over and write in a more acceptable grade. Completely oblivious to my own stupidity, I also decided it would be completely unnoticeable if I liquid papered the scathing comments section:


Alex , although bright, is , often lazy and un willing to do homework. His lack of focus is evident in his lack of rewards and accomplishments in class.

I looked upon my handy work and thought how brilliant I truly was, and how my teacher was more of an idiot for failing to see my hidden genius. I thought the mark of an intelligent man was in how they covered up a major fuck up. Of course, my parents weren’t stupid. They knew something was up, upon opening an already opened report card to see half the report card covered in crackling lumpy liquid paper. It might have worked a little better had I given the liquid paper time to dry, instead of trying to score the letter into the moist liquid paper like a kid carving his name in wet cement. Needless-to-say, the whole plot blew up in my face.

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My attempts at covering up my stupidity are many, and nowadays I don't bother. I just admit to them. There really is no point. If I couldn't fool the adults as a kid, I can''t fool them now.