Chapter Three: Learning My A, B, Idiosyncracies
My mother has a little notebook dedicated to things my brother and I have done over the years-most of them stupid things we’ve said when we were younger, but there are probably some stupid things we’ve done more recently clogging those pages as well. One of my favorite incidental stories to tell, however embarrassing for everyone involved, takes place somewhere close to fifteen years ago, when my family still lived in the small yellow house I was brought into. We fit two stories into this petite abode, the top story-as well as I can recall-boasted the family’s bedrooms and one bathroom. It was in this bathroom which the bulk of this incident occurred.
Mom tells me that she was downstairs, reading in the living room, and she hadn’t heard from me in quite some time. She went to search for me in the last place she had seem me: the second floor. She found me, as foretold, in the bathroom, where I had discovered some feminine products and had proceeded to become a percussionist with the packaging I had found them in. She decided that my behavior was not destructive and left me to my activity.
After some time, when she had returned to the living room and her literature, she heard my small footsteps on the stairs. I came bounding down the steps-pitt pitt pitt pitt pitt CLUNK-on its carpet to the wooden floor below. Taking no mind of my decided boredom with my short-lived career as a drummer, mother ignored me until she heard my small voice announce: “Look, mom! Stickers!”
They were the most pillow-y stickers I would ever come into contact with in my entire life.
Besides having an early attachment (budumtiss) to the necessities in life, I also am told I had a fascination with what I pronounced, “buh-duh-duh”s…
Any construction equipment, really. We would be driving down a road, approach a construction site unknowingly to my poor parents, and I would flip my $#!*. *Vigorously jabs glass window with pudgy, itsy-bitsy toddler fingers* “buhduhduhbuhduhduhbuhduhduhbuhduhduh-” “ohmygodhoneystop.”
I have no idea what it was about them. It could be the fact that they were yellow-but I despised the color up until this past year, so I doubt that is one hundred percent the case. It could be the fact that they seemed to be giant metal machines that seemingly moved sans human interference and I found that magical. Who needed fairies when you had magic metal beasts? (Fairies were the bomb too, though, don’t get me wrong. I still love myself some Tinker Bell.)
Another quirk about car rides involving a pint-sized Quinn: Beethoven and friends were my squad. Road trips meant classical music, whether the road trip was to Grandma’s in Traverse City, or to dad’s work on Alpine. Twangy country music was a must as well, which is uncharacteristic of who I’ve become. I remember a specific trip-it may have been on an occasion where mom and I were going to visit dad, or we were driving out to our cottage in Grand Haven, when I suggested both genres to my chauffeur. At first, I suggested country, but once mom told me she couldn’t stand a second of it any longer, I resorted to requesting my homies on the classical station. We ended up listening to classical, but not the classical I originally had wanted. Guitar riffs and Aerosmith were involved. Thus began my introduction to classic rock.
Something else my parents introduced to me at a young age was dressing up. Yes, dressing up is an expectation with every child, and I had my fair share of kiddie-cosmetics, fairy wings, dresses and the like, but I also experimented with my father’s abundant do-rags, wacky wigs from previous years’ Halloween costumes, and walked around in his work shoes from time to time.
Halloween and I get along quite well, and these characters I love to become have probably gained strength because they stemmed from these beginnings. Honestly, I still have a bunch of these wigs and costumes in the basement of my house-not because I constantly wear them, but because they’re nice to pull out sometimes to remember the memories that go along with them and they come in handy when Autumn rolls back around.
I’m not sure if this entry is a supporting statement for nature or nurture, but I’ve definitely carried many of these quirks with me into my adolescent years. I’ve rid myself of quirks that don’t portray me as the human being I feel I am, and I have kept the ones that speak through me. I’m still discovering things I’ve done as a child that I continue to do today-which is definitely a statement supporting the argument that I am actually just a physically maturing five-year-old.
Continue reading below if you want to take a look at some excerpts from my mom’s book of kiddie quotes! I thought I would add it on as a sort of post-script instead of including it in this chapter due to it being more of a chronicle/list than actual information.
With that, I leave you with this:
All right! Bringing things back to the original statement regarding my mother’s notebook of idiosyncrasies, I’ve retrieved it so as to chronicle them here
so I don’t forget that they exist in the first place for prosperity.
Side Note: Thank goodness my mother is a detailed woman.
Extra Side Note: I’m literally writing like half of these down so don’t feel obliged to read this. Leave if you want. Love yourself-you do you.
The Kiddie Quotes
June 14, 2000
“Make a story, make a story for Bea and Pete (aunt and uncle) – let’s go work on something.”
June 27, 2000
While tubbing, Quinn played with her buckets and stated, “Tip over the water, fill the water in the bucket. How much the water be?” She answered to herself, “30 pounds.” I may have been slightly off.
July 6, 2000
“Whatchu doin’ Tori? (Neighbor/babysitter) Poppin’ a wheelie?” (Tori was popping up the stroller)
July 10, 2000
Daddy asked Quinn, “What did you do today?” She replied, “I fell in the toilet.”
July 18, 2000
Grandma Jeanne, Quinn and I were shopping in Grand Haven this morning when Quinn said to the clerk, “Hey, Lady.” The woman replied, “You can call me Helen.” So she said, “Hey Melon.”
October 20, 2000
Quinn was jumping in her crib this morning and as I walked towards the door laughed and shouted, “Hey, get me out of here. I’m an animal stuck in the zoo.”
November 17, 2000
We were driving to Traverse for our early Christmas and Rod suggested Taco Bell for lunch (Quinn’s favorite). “No taco, no taco”, she said. “Don’t want Taco Bell. Just had that last week!” Oh, you poor, ignorant, unemployed child.
November 30, 2000
“What’s the Universe?” (I see my existentialist tendencies began early)
March 8, 2001
Quinn was having trouble going down for a nap today. I asked her if she tried to nest her head on her pillow and she said, “Yes, but the Earth shook my head!”
March 9, 2001
Quinn asked the question yesterday – “Why do we live on Earth?”
There was some weird stuff going on with me and the Universe when I was two, I guess.
June 30, 2001
Daddy asked, “What makes a boat float?” Quinn answered, “Gravity.” #soclose
August 2, 2001
Questions asked this week:
1. Why do people’s hearts stop beating sometimes?
2. How come they call them hot air balloons?
3. What do trees do for us and why do they grow so big?
4. How do they make paper?
5. Why do they call it outer-space?
6. How do you make eyes?
7. Why do they call it a mini-van? It’s not mini.
I still don’t know the answer to half of these and now my childhood is a lie.
August 5, 2001
“Mom, the best part of my life is you.” Still true.
September 19, 2001
Jack was born last evening and Quinn was on her way up to the hospital to meet her new brother with Grandma and Grandpa when Grandma asked if she wanted to get Jack a present. Quinn responded, “No present. I am the present!” Also true.
November 6, 2001
Quinn and Grandma Cynthia were shopping at Kohl’s-Quinn was looking one way in the cart and Cynthia was looking the opposite way as Q stated, “Hey! You’re not supposed to leave me unattended!”
January 26, 2002
This one was from my pops: At the dinner table, Quinn looks at me and says, “Dad, who invented carrots?”
July 11, 2002
We were riding in the car w/ the AC on. From the back seat, Quinn says, “I wish I had 11 mouths.” “Why?” We asked. “Daddy’s blowing too much cold in the car. “Why do you need 11 mouths though?” “To blow on my skin and warm me up.”
July 7, 2004
Quinn looked out in our yard and saw some Queen Anne’s lace. She said, “Hey, mom, look. There’s some Queen Lily’s shoe lace.”