What would RTH do?

That is the question.

If I were in a highschool yearbook, they would vote me most likely to die of a lynch mob. That does not prevent me from opening my mouth and serving a warm hearty cup of STFU to people who deserve it. My dark scathing humor will leave no matter of existence untouched. My innocence will touch your soul.

Welcome to a warped world turned inside out and upside down. All sorts of discretion advised.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Slinky, Stairs and Sixty minutes

I'm an overgrown child. My IQ is that of a five year old. Anyone who has any doubts about my childlike notions has to do naught but observe some of my arcane infantile weekend rituals. This is how a good portion of my Sunday progressed. I feed the cats at noon. Setting the bowl down, my ADD eyes hover around the room. Ooh shiny! I see something shiny under the desk. I wonder what that is. I must find the shiny. At this point I have forgotten what is on the agenda for the day, and my mind is on shiny.

I eventually discover that shiny is an old metal slinky. I slide the slinky palm to palm, run my fingers over its cool metallic surface. Ooh this is so much fun. Now I want to run my slinky down the stairs. After all that is what a slinky does. I bolt up the stairs in glee and begin my games. Unfortunately, the slinky is not cooperating. It just does not go beyond two stairs. I decide that the fault is in the plush red carpet. I figure the wooden stairs upstairs will render me more luck. So I climb another level higher and restart my games. Clack! Clack! Zing! Clack! the slinky completes a noisy maneuver. My grandmother is worried what the sound is. I'm just playing, I answer. Nikki the cat has joined me now at the bottom of the stairs. Her curious cat eyes are wide as saucers. She looks at me, eyes getting wider and wider per second.

Thusly I continue my games. The slinky refuses to cooperate. I try all sorts of angles and positions. I even go all the way up, dangle it down from a height and try to toss it down. Nothing seems to work. But I continue my games with childlike fascination and tireless vigor. After all what does a five year old have to do other than make a slinky go down the stairs. If I could just get the slinky to do as I will, my life would be complete. I'm just five remember. The only thing with more excitement, curiosity and delight in my games are Nikki's saucer eyes, they are as big as her face now looking at me with devotional delight. Alas! One of my attempts almost clacks its way to the bottom. Nikki's widely fascinated eyes shrink back and she runs away. I wonder if she thought it was  a silver demon snake. My games continue for almost an hour and then I am bored. An ADD five year old can be amused only so long.

It is fun to be five. It makes it seem completely logical and natural when I almost start crying in phobia because there are wasps building a hive on the porch. I'm chided for being a child. But grown ups just don't understand fear correctly. The wasps are building an army and they will be invading our house through the ventilation system. Secretly, when no one is looking I shudder and cry about the insects outside and console myself. We sprayed Raid last night and that should stop their invading army. I want Raid under my bed, but for now hairspray will suffice.

It actually is completely delightful being five. I just saw some slinky videos. This weekend, I'll actually run my slinky down the stairs. Then I will run my slinky on the treadmill. Once my slinky tasks are accomplished, I'm going to practice holding my breath till I get my way. I've got the innocent face mastered, now I need the contingency plan.

Oh how I wish I could be five forever!


Stumped Taco said...


You know exactly what I'm on about.

return_to_hades said...

Until the broken pieces of my brain fall back in place.

Jaya said...

Found you...:). And...why? :(