I lost a finger nail when I was a kid.
My middle finger was crushed under my skateboard. It’s a very clear memory for me, mostly because it hurt so much, but also because I swore to my parents that my nail was going to come off. They didn’t believe me. Imagine my splendor when a few days later my finger nail finally jiggled loose in a shallow bowl of warm salt water. I was right! They were wrong! What else could mean so much to a five year old?!
My two front teeth were knocked out while I was riding my bike. I usually had scrapes and bruises on my knees. There was no way that I was going to hang out with the little girls at recess when there was a kickball game going on with the boys. Not only could I play with the boys, I could actually beat some of them.
Being a tomboy was an integral part of my self-comprehension growing up. I knew that Jesus loved me and I knew that I could throw a ball and win running races. Felt boards confused me though, especially when Jesus and the disciples were plopped up there with no background or context. Shotty Sunday School teaching is a whole other entry.
If nothing else, being a tomboy has prepared me to have a lot of fun with my little nephew, Ewan. He’s my sister Jodie’s oldest and he’s currently four years old. It’s almost like I know his mind because it was my mind 23 years ago. Sometimes I still have urges to buy strange objects, such as a four year old boy would buy, like fake Dracula teeth. No joke. I almost spent $7 on fake teeth a few weeks ago…with no reason to wear them. As I stood in the store with them in my hands, the thought of wearing them in my apartment, alone, was the only deterrent. Ewan would have loved them.
Now that I’m in my late 20s I don’t buy such things. I buy clothes, milk, batteries, and other practical objects. But that doesn’t mean that my pupils don’t dilate a bit when they fall upon finger-puppet monsters, NERF footballs and cap guns. I would have given up a fingernail to have the money to buy those things back in 1984.
The video below is Ewan and I wandering through a corn-maze this past weekend. It ends with him yelling, “Run for your life!” which I didn’t know he was going to say until it exploded out of his mouth. He truly makes me laugh and when I’m with him I forget about my worries, even if it’s just for a scary corn-maze stroll.