You already might have noticed that I am not afraid to admit that sometimes, I am a klutz.
Or at least, I think I am. The world’s clumsiest person. The biggest sense for adventures involving fire, very sharp tools (or a combination of both) and other potentially disastrous experiments, united in a vessel that is not the most skillful one at executing these experiments at times.
I still wonder why I haven’t chopped off any of my limbs during remodeling. Maybe I am not as klutzy as I think I am. Or maybe I’m just one lucky gal…
Add to that fact that sometimes, my brain works in “squirrel mode”, you get the picture I’m trying to paint…
A particularly hubilicious-like encounter that took place yesterday made me think of all the great things I already achieved, experiment-wise. And I decided to share some with you…
When I was a kid… Yep, that story with the curtains. I already gave that one away. But there was so much more. Scissors made their appearance once or twice more. You know when you have medium-long hair and than you have that moment when you (not anyone else, but YOU) decide it’s finally time for bangs? Been there, done that.
Also, I was riveted by fire at a pretty early age. Small dancing flames and their potentially disastrous powers. Holy smokes (you can take it literally in this context). Once, during Christmas time, I was crafting little Santa Clauses out of toilet paper rolls. Painted them red, then brushed on a little belt around the middle, added a face and of course amazing white hear, a hat and a big bushy beard. At least as big and bushy as it gets when you’re toilet-paper-roll-sized. So, you have cardboard/paper, paint, glue, scissors (yes!) and a lot of cotton wool. Add to that an adventurous young spirit, a Christmas Pyramid and candles, and you end up with a recipe for disaster (if you have never seen a Christmas Pyramid which is a popular German Christmas decoration, lease follow this link). The young spirit mentioned was pondering the question how fast cotton (looking so fluffy and cloud-like) would actually burn. A word and a blow later (and what a blow that was), the aspiring scientist knew that it burned at an astonishing speed and temperature. Blisters on all fingers of one hand, and just a few on the others were the result. Plus no more crafting in my room. And no more lit candles for some time. I also learned that playing the recorder at the Christmas concert with that many blisters might help you cover the little holes in the instrument, but the pain isn’t worth doing it again.
And there was this other time when I wanted to know if it was possible to light an entire book of matches at once, and how that would take place. Result I: no blisters. But burn marks in the carpet (my reflexes were already way better that time). Unfortunately, the carpet was pretty new. Result II: Very unhappy mother.
I also painted / made drawings of exquisite beauty on the wallpaper. Yes, I had a little chalkboard, but fantasy and creativity know no boundaries, right?!
That being said, I think I still was a lovable child that did not destroy everything that crossed its path. And I was good at school, had mostly decent friends, etc. So I made up for it. In a way.
But the need to try things out never left me. So later in life, the “arsonist” was followed by:
- the “omnivore” – “It cannot hurt to eat the 5 lbs pineapple pieces that sat in vodka for a week all at once, right?!?!”;
- the “cat wrestler” – “You have to go to the vet, if you like it or not. But we will discuss you turning into a clawed octopus and puncturing my neck like a vampire later!”;
- the “lover of Japanese knifes who on occasion looks somewhere else while cutting veggies” (need I say more?);
- the “dog swimming facilitator” – “Look at that lab… Boy, can he swim… Wow, and he really is agile. Look at how he jumped out of the pool right next to me. Why does he look so funny? No… he won’t… he doesn’t dare…” (yes, he did shake off the entire excess of water right next to me; and others followed his example);
- the “heavy weight lifter” – “Yep, this old and rather really heavy bike will go into that giant trash container over there. Just lift it and whoops… thank God thumbnails are really attached all the way down to the nail bed.”;
- the “OMGthereissomeoneinthekitchenIheardhimcoughIwon’tbeabletosleepalthoughit’s3am andIknowthereisnoonethere I’m35afterallbuthewillprobablykillmeonceIamasleepagain soIwon’tsleepanymoresowhatthe…itcoughedagainIreallyheardit” – please, do NOT linger under my bedroom window;
- since yesterday, the proud “Mandoline slicer owner who wants to get a feeling for her new “instrument” first before she also uses the cut-resistant glove and the food holder right next to her” – salad, anyone?!;
- and some other interesting characters that all make me… well, me.
On a side note: believe me, I am also totally capable of being normal and doing normal things and not to hurt myself, others or to cause collateral damage while I am at it (whatever “it” may be).
But yes – I have my moments. I can laugh about them. I like the fact that I can laugh about them, and that I want to share these stories without being embarrassed (maybe only a tiny bit, especially about the mandoline slicer). They make me who I am. And I would’ want to be anyone else.
Who are you? And what is/was YOUR moment?