A couple of weeks ago, my three-year-old son put ice in his milk. I called him a weirdo because, frankly, iced milk is weird. He wrinkled up his nose and jovially rebutted with, “Hey! I not a weirdo!”
I didn’t argue with him because I don’t want him to grow up with a complex, but the truth is, we’re all weirdos.
Yes, even you, in your own little way, have a weird side. Most people try to hide it, but I say embrace your weirdness, wear it with pride, and revel in what makes you unique to the rest of the world!
While in Germany, I bought a cuckoo clock and had it shipped home. Unfortunately, one of the chains came off during shipping. I took it to a clock shop, and the repairman said I was his third cuckoo that day! I’m fairly certain he meant clocks, but if not, that’s okay. Cuckoo accurately depicts my mental state. And it wouldn’t surprise me if, during this hectic holiday season, it describes a good number of his customers.
It was also in Germany that I bought my crazy lady hat. It’s a handmade, gray wool hat with an uneven brim and random pink yarn splayed across the front. Or back. It really depends on how you decide to wear it. I had no intention of buying one, but while I was trying on sweaters at the next booth, my five-year-old tried on all the hats. At that point, I felt obligated.
The hatmaker told me all about the sheep that provide her wool, and explained the design process to me. To be honest, most of them looked rather Seuss-ish. One after another, she plunked them onto my head, trying to find a good fit. I pointed to one that I thought might work. It was oddly shaped, and had a number of colors strewn throughout the wool.
She shook her head, and in her thick, German accent said, “No. That is not for you. You only need to wear that hat if you want to tell people you are crazy. But when people already know you are crazy, you do not need to advertise it.”
Duly chastised, I chose the most demure hat she offered. It’s still a little on the unusual side, but apparently it doesn’t scream crazy, unlike the embroidered shawl I wore to church on Sunday. My bun was a bit messy from the wind, and I was wearing my glasses. Originally, I only wore glasses while driving, but I seem to need them more frequently these days. My seventeen-year-old son caught a glimpse of me from two pews away and indicated that I looked like a granny. My fourteen-year-old daughter leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Actually, you look like a crazy art teacher.”
I made a mental note to scold the kids later for talking during church, and then let my mind settle on what they said. I realized that I’m okay with looking like a granny or a crazy art teacher. Besides, it was one of three shawls hubby hauled all the way from Kathmandu, so I might as well get adjusted to the idea. Suddenly, I wanted to go back to Germany and buy the crazy hat. And while there, I’d have her knit a chain for my glasses. Because really, once you’re willing to let your weirdness show, you might as well go all out!
When I really examine the evidence, I can see that three-year-old son definitely comes by his weirdness honestly. Hubby likes ice in his milk too.
Leave a Reply