I've Heard the Stories

  The other day I ranted about what could happen if someone were to innocently put their rain hat on the wrong hook in the wrong kindergarten classroom. If I were that kindergartener (and I'm not saying I was) I would remember that day forever.

Another situation that I would think I should remember forever if it were to occur to me, would be being laughed at while on stage. Say a young child was performing lines at a school show and screwed it up. Say that the entire school and the audience consisting of every child in the class's parents, grandparents aunts, uncles, third cousins twice removed, neighbors and the entire country bordering us to the north were watching. And say that this huge audience burst out into hysterical laughter so much so that the child dropped to their knees on the stage and began to weep piteously.

That's the kind of thing that someone would remember, right? That would scar them for life? Cause them to fear public speaking? You'd think so.

However, something very like that happened to me when I was but a child. Apparently, while performing "There was an old lady who swallowed a fly" I said not only my line, but everyone's line. The audience burst out into laughter at my cute ineptitude. But do I remember it? Not at all.

I've heard the stories from my mother, my sister and from every child in the class's parents, grandparents aunts, uncles, third cousins twice removed, neighbors and the entire country bordering us to the north. But do I have any recollection of it? Nope! Either I shrugged it off, or it scarred me so deeply I've walled off the memory somewhere deep within my troubled mind and only a very competent psychotherapist could dig the memory out from the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind. I think that's one I'd like to keep buried, thank you very much.

Quack!