Forgive me if I’ve told some of these stories already. These all happened in elementary school.
Saddam Hussein was in the news constantly when I was about 6. The news was on in the background of my life several times a day. As a result, I heard about Saddam Hussein constantly. But I never looked up to see how his name was spelled. I heard “Saddam, who sang”. It was curious that I never heard him sing during any of the news segments featuring him. I wondered (to myself) — “If this guy is so good at singing that they can’t say his name without mentioning that he sang, how come we never get to hear him sing?” I also wanted to know what he sang. I imagined him wearing a tux and white gloves, singing our national anthem, wildly gesticulating in the air.
No stove, no problem
I was forbidden from using the stove. But my dad was also grumpy if I woke him up from naps. Once, I got hungry while he was asleep and decided to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich. Since I couldn’t use the stove, I figured the toaster could work. I put a Kraft single with one of the pieces of bread, pressed the lever, and waited. When the toast was done, the cheese had disappeared. I thought, “The toaster must’ve been hungry. Poor toaster. We always put bread in but we never feed the toaster.” So I tried again with more cheese. This time, the toaster started smoking and my dad woke up. He was pissed. He imposed a new rule for the toaster: only bread.
No stove, no toaster, no problem
The same happened again. Dad asleep, no stove, no toaster. There was cold pizza, and we had a microwave, but I didn’t like flabby microwaved pizza. Oven was off limits too. So I asked myself what makes things warm that I am allowed to use. I considered the hair dryer, but that would wake up grumpy dad. I settled on the VCR, which has that convenient slot like a toaster, and also does warm up the cassettes while playing them. The thing is, a VCR doesn’t “play” slices of pizza, and it doesn’t “eject” them either. I pretended none of it happened. My dad was not happy to find the pizza some days after, but at least I wasn’t banned from using the VCR.
The right to bear arms
I guess I heard about this on the news too. The phrase “constitutionally protected second amendment right to bear arms” was in my head from an early age but I thought it meant that as a U.S. citizen, I had the legal right to go around with sleeveless shirts in public whenever I wanted. One sunny day, I wanted to wear a tank top out and my mom wanted me to put on a jacket. I said I didn’t have to. She disagreed. Loudly. I told her “I have a constitutionally protected second amendment right to bare arms.” She had no idea what I was talking about. I explained my legally protected right to show my bare arms in public. She said “If that’s true your country has strange laws but I’m your mother so I still get to tell you what you wear out of the house.” I put on my jacket.
Freedom of speech
I got in trouble constantly at school for talking in class. I had nothing better to do once my schoolwork was complete, so I’d pester my neighbors. I was thrilled to discover that the first amendment gives me freedom of speech. When I was told by my teacher to stop talking in class, I said “I have a first amendment right to freedom of speech. I CAN TALK IF I WANT TO!” I got sent to the principal’s office for that. They had to drag my mom in to tell me that at school, students don’t have that right. Oops.
I was at a dinner my uncle put on for his boss when I was about 5. His boss was a large man. When I met him he was eating a plate full of hors d’oeuvres, so my first question to him was “Did you know that you are REALLY FAT?” Every adult in the room gasped, audibly or inaudibly, and went silent. Luckily for me, the boss thought I was hilarious and replied, laughing, “Yes, I know.” I continued my line of questioning: “So why are you STILL EATING?” He looked embarrassed, but kept eating.
When I grow up
At the same dinner, all of us kids were asked what we wanted to be when we grew up. I had no idea what that meant. “What do you mean, what I want to BE?” The boss explained, “If you work hard, you can be whatever you want to be when you grow up.” Shocked, I repeated “ANYTHING? I can be ANYTHING?” He nodded. I struggled with the infinitude of possibilities. I looked around at everything in the room. Had all of these inanimate objects once been people? A person who wanted to be a spoon? A dining room table? A television? My cousins answered first: a veterinarian and a race car driver. When it was my turn to answer, I said “If I can be anything, I guess I want to be a bathtub.” Because I liked to take baths. What could be better than not having to do anything but take baths. The boss thought this was funny too.
I’m not sure I’ve grown out of the stupidity, but the stories are less funny now that I’m older. Happy Thursday.