Baby Brynne was a Weirdo

“If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.” – Tom Stoppard

         Surprise! I was once a child! This is a big deal – I know. But what you may not know, (but may have suspected,) is that I was a peculiar child. Strange really does not even begin to describe how I was. Super different. Super odd. Super Brynne.

         It’s not like I looked like a weird kid. I mean, sure, I went through my phases. For YEARS I would only wear belts and jeans purchased in the boy’s section. I guess I was still stuck in the ‘90s when it came to fashion. You know, the whole tomboy wearing a newsboy cap look.  I was always runway ready.

         Speaking of clothing, I remember my first day of first grade. I was wearing a white shirt with a small lace border. We got to school and my mom and I were wandering around the blacktop in the schoolyard looking for my would-be teacher, Ms. Stromquist. My mom, having the keen eye of a mother, realized that my shirt was on inside out. This is what happens when you allow a 6-year old to dress herself. Well, not all 6-year olds. Just me, I believe. She tells me we have to fix it, but we don’t have time to go back home or to the parking lot before school began. We head to an alcove where she tried to persuade me to fix my shirt there.

Being 6, I had some sort of dignity. Most of it came to Pokémon and knowing when to trade and when I was being duped, but I also had some street smarts here and there. I knew this situation was not really in my best interest, but I was between a rock and a hard place. Do I flash the world or commit a serious fashion faux pas?

         I chose to flash the world. OH, COME ON. IT’S NOT LIKE YOU HAVEN’T DONE IT. So, embarrassing baby Brynne story #1. Congrats. Now you know more about me than you had hoped to.

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         On to the next embarrassing story, I had a cat - Simba. He was a big old fluffy thing given to us from my great-grandmother, Lily Louise, (isn’t that the most beautiful name? I’ll share more stories regarding her later.) He was also my best friend. We played, we cuddled, and I took advantage of his above-average size. How? Well, I would ride him down the stairs. Don’t you judge me. You don’t know my life. Simba also used to get in more cat fights than Lindsey Lohan after a hard night of partying.  It got to the point where he had to have his side shaved and tubes pumping antibiotics in while pumping nasty cat juices out. I bet you already know what I am about to admit to…

         I pulled out the tubes. I allowed those nasty cat juices to escape from the tubes and escape into the outside world. I am so sorry for my actions.

I’m sufficiently embarrassed. I’ll just post some other hopefully redeeming stuff later… You know how it is.

-B