Monday, October 14, 2013

I is for Impossible

I is for I.
As in the old adage, Me, Myself and...I.
As a member of the Writer's of Kern, I (and I pray I'm not the sole obedient one) have been asked to submit a quick biography.
Proud as a peacock, I decided to enumerate my endless list of qualities and accomplishments - minus well, the qualities. And accomplishments.
I even employed the SYBIC (Slam Your Butt In a Chair) tactic. Sort of a diabolical move. My eyes glazed over and my legs lost feeling before a word was written.
I knew desperation was lurking in the shadows when the thought to call my mother came. Twice. Maternal perspectives are impervious to faults.
The temptation to steal the bio my husband wrote a few years ago was squashed when I realized it was laid to rest in an electronic grave a few months before.
Hope was lost until my author daughter asked why I was staring at the white screen (the empty word document). After assessing the situation (with the distinctive flair of an imaginative seven-year-old), she announced a solution.

She would interview me.

Daughter: But you have to type because I'm the reporter now. I need to hold the pen and paper.
Naturally.

Daughter: How long ago were you born? Grandma said it was important to presidents. Does that mean you knew Abraham Lincoln?
Me: I was born during Reagan's Inaugural Speech. January 20th, Inauguration Day.


Daughter: (Sighs) Oh, I thought something interesting happened that day. 
Me: Well, Grandma had cancer and I was born in a cancer hospital.

Daughter: (She offered a blank look and kept going) You have to tell the truth. Grandma said you liked school so much you kept going. But she also said you skipped school. Tell me the truth, cause I skip things I don't like. Like math. We should skip math every day.
Me: You're not getting out of math. But yes, I graduated high school early so I could go to college.

Daughter: I think I should graduate early right now. I could go to an author college. (She holds her pen in the air) That's a pretty good idea.
Me: You can't go to college until you're older.


Daughter: (rolls eyes) Fine. Did you go to an author college?
Me: No. I graduated in Animal and Veterinary Science. Now I'm raising three monkeys.


Daughter: That's hilarious (She wasn't laughing).
Me: Ask me another question.

Daughter: Why did you adopt a sister?
Me: Grandma and Grandpa adopted my four brothers and sisters. Grandma couldn't have anymore babies so they brought home foster brothers and sisters.


Daughter: They wanted more kids? Did you tell them they could have my sisters?
Me: We're not giving away your sisters.


Daughter: Fine. (another eye roll) What's all this stuff? (waves hand around the piles of first aid stuff).
Me: It's part of my service for the church. I help the women become self-reliant. Financial and budgeting classes, food storage, coupon classes, health classes, and emergency prep. That's why I ordered all the first aid kids and medicine. I want everyone prepared and independent.

Daughter: Is that why you're at the school so much?
Me: No, that's the school site council.


Daughter: Do you do anything interesting?
Me: Raising you is definitely interesting.

Daughter: (smiles) I am pretty interesting.
Me: One more question.


Daughter: Nice try. I'm the reporter. Where's all your medals?
Me: My running medals? They're in your sister's closet or yours.

Daughter: No. The good ones, the ones from when you rode horses.
Me: They're hidden away. It makes me sad to look at them.


Daughter: Sad? I never get sad when I get medals. Something's wrong with you.
Me: I wasn't sad when I won them. I'm sad I no longer ride. I can't fit it into my life right now. I will later, hopefully.


Daughter: (very serious) You said that you're Mom and you make the rules. Why can't you make a riding rule?
Me: Because I'm too busy trying to get a Mom Medal. It takes a lot of work to get that one.


Daughter: (grins) I have a few ideas on how you could win a Mom Medal.
Me: You're not getting out of math.

Daughter: (frowns) I'm changing the name of your story. I is for impossible!

6 comments:

Annis Cassells said...

This is adorable, and a clever way to get your bio out there. I hope more folks will get to see it. xoA

Joan Raymond said...

Such a creative way to divulge information about yourself. I think you should interview your daughter one of these days, I think she would have quite a few things to talk about.

Clarissa Kae said...

Oh wow, interviewing her would definitely be an experience.

Davyd Morris said...

She cannot be seven years old! The young and intrepid reporter has a keen instinct for pulling the deeper inner truths out of her subject. I earned much about the subject and the reporter.

Karon Valdivieso said...

You have earned the Mom Medal already, it is a matter of keeping it polished! I sure love you, MORE!

Karon Valdivieso said...

You have already earned the MOM medal! It is just a matter of keeping it looking shiny and bright. It is always a treat to read your blog. I am filled with a pep in my step. Thanks for the delightful read!