I got dressed this morning to go to the store first thing (wanted to try to beat the crowds at TJ's). Then I came home and cleaned house, which required a different I-don't-really-care-if-these-clothes-get-ruined ensemble. After that I wanted to lay outside and soak in some sun, and I wasn't going to wear a bathing suit but I did want to be somewhat cognizant of my already established farmer tan. Why make it worse? And now I'm about to go to the gym. Needing, of course, an almost complete change of wardrobe due to the fact that it's summer and my pores are in very good working order (aka I sweat like a... well... a lot).
Writing all this out reminds me of a story from when I was a kid. I was visiting my grandparents who lived in Utah and my brother and I had been playing outside for most of the day. I don't remember why but I had changed clothes a lot that day, too, probably because we were about to have one of our many water balloon fights with the neighbor kids and we had just come back from a walk in the fields behind the house. These two activities needed two very different outfits- one needing long pants to avoid the bugs especially the ticks I always thought were everywhere, and the other needed very little clothing to reduce the drippage. I thought I was being very considerate, I'm sure. And then there's the changing between morning coolness and afternoon heat, etc. I probably went through several different changes for all kinds of reasons.
One thing to mention, too, is that these grandparents were a tad more strict than my brother and I were used to at home. They frequently couldn't understand how we thought we could get away with all of our shenanigans, and expected us to be able to go play quietly outside or play quietly inside and generally stay out of trouble. As far as we were concerned, going from LA to the small town in Southern Utah was an extraordinary culture shock most of the time. We often had no idea how to entertain ourselves since, as far as we could see, there was almost nothing there to do.
Anyway, I was pretty young- maybe 8 or 9 - and I was just running out of the house to go play water balloons, when my grandmother yelled after me to stop changing clothes all the time since she was the one who had to wash them and I was getting all the clothes I brought dirty in one day. I was surprised that she would want to wash something I had only worn for a very little while. I didn't think I had gotten the clothes all that dirty and hadn't intended for her to have to wash them. So I replied (I'm pretty sure I was sincerely trying to be helpful) that the clothes washing thing sounded like her problem. And turned around and went outside.
Sheesh. Sometimes I wonder how I ever survived childhood.
My mom told me about this story several years ago, which brought it all back. And I honestly can't believe I would say something so disrespectful to my grandmother. I can't imagine talking back to her- I was afraid of her and my grandfather. So when my mom told me about this I had to ask her why I said that. She said that I was in a phase where I was into defining people's problems for them, and then she laughed. As if my being a snot was- at least in retrospect- a little funny. Personally, I can't believe people ever thought I was cute when I was a kid. I sound pretty irritating to me.
For your entertainment I'm including a picture of me from when I was about 8 or 9. Sorry for the bad quality, but you can still tell that my fashion sense was already highly developed by this age. I particularly like the training wheels.
4 comments:
Sooo funny!! I love that you were 'defining other people's problems' for them - lol!
Happy Sunday! Miss you
Happy Sunday to you, too. I thought you would like that. I guess somethings never change, huh.
Can't wait for your visit! woo hoo!
It's comforting your ability to read and understand people.
But Stef, saying those "disrespectful" things is what made you cute. You weren't being disrespectful, you were just being you and you were so sweet and innocent when you said them that it was hard to take offense. Well, not for your grandmother but thank goodness you didn't see her often.
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