Why I Am What I Am
A friend of mine recently remarked: “God gave me boys because He knew I would never be able to make a french braid.”
That is the kind of philosophical insight that I just love.
And it got me to thinking. What are the reasons I got the attributes I fortunately or unfortunately live with every day?
For instance. I have severe hay fever. I figure God did not want me to mow the lawn. However, once I got a husband and he got a ride-on lawnmower, God discovered a miracle cure via the right medication- so that while my husband drove around the lawn, I could discover the joy of gardening.
When I was young, I had a friend whose brother was much older than she. He could never remember the names of any of his sister’s friends. So he called us by our most memorable traits. Linda had the “Pretty Friend” and the “Tall Friend” and the “Shy Friend.” I was the “Funny Friend.” Certainly better than being the “Obnoxious Friend,” but how I wanted to be the “Pretty Friend.” And although I like the way I look now, and sometimes even feel sort of beautiful, I have to admit I was a very homely little girl. But I see the reason why I was such an extremely late bloomer (extremely like sixty years). I had to develop my brain-power to get ahead. And my sense of humor. I’m lazy – and I know that had I been born beautiful, I just would have traded on it – like constantly. So now I am glad that I’m smart and funny – and finally good-looking.
I am extremely nearsighted, but on the other hand, I have an overly developed sense of smell. And unbelievably good hearing. The combination of dull and freakishly acute senses can be a pain in the ass. But guess what? How else would I be able to wake up my husband in the middle of the night with “What’s that???”
And finally, I am as flat-chested as a ten-year-old boy. And what is the blessing behind my teeny tatas? For the life of me I couldn’t figure it out. I never wanted to be swimmer or a gymnast. And although I did (at sixteen) want to be a fashion model, I didn’t get the face or quite the height – or the strut-ability – to get very far in that career. In the past couple of years, I’ve fallen in love with Zumba – but a nice set of knockers would be kind of an asset to my cumbia.
But I think I have it! I know why I am built like the Flatiron building.
I am destined to play the accordion!