Sometimes the little kid in me gets hurt. She skins her psychic knee, and needs a bandaid and a whole bunch of attention. She is the one in the photo on top of the little cabinet in the bathroom, the cherubic one, with a sweet curl on top of her head, and wispy little pigtails. She looks oh so innocent. Don't be fooled by appearances. She can wreak havoc at a moment's notice, if not attended to daily. That's the key: attention! Attention must be paid, or things get pretty dicey for the grownup me just trying to make sense of the world around me. If I don't, she then looks to others (well, wouldn't you?), and they always let her down. Then she is mad. At them, surely? Wrong, she is mad at ME. Not unfairly, either, because I am the one that let her down in the first place. So I am off to buy myself a sweet bouquet for my table, to remind Little Me that I love her and know she loves flowers. And maybe I will take her to a movie or the park, soon, if she behaves herself.
No comments:
Post a Comment