the purple chai | ||
now :: then :: me :: them | ||
a fifty-something under-tall half-deaf school librarian in the jersey suburbs with two grown kids and time on her hands Libraries will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no libraries.
|
||
Strange But True 422 |
04.28.2004 |
5:53 pm |
I do not own my own head. Few people know this about me, yet it is oddly true. My sister owns my head. I don't know why I thought of this today; I haven't in quite some time. When I was a young'un, it was a running family joke. My parents were the sort of parents who felt children needed to feel that they had a stake in important things. When I was born, they must have told my sister that "the baby" was "hers." She demanded something a little more tangible, so they told her that it was my head that was hers, hoping, I guess, that she would help take good care of it. During the nasty bossy-big-sister years, she would routinely and randomly forbid me to do things, asserting her ownership status of the head that had to go along with the rest of me when I did them. My parents also gave me ownership of the tree outside my bedroom window when we moved into our house when I was 8. Some years later when they had it cut down, I freaked out. How could they do that? It was my tree. |
Click here to read
how this page
is protected by
copyright laws.
teolor here