Sunday, October 29, 2006

Wonder Woman...of course

“Wonder Woman”.
That was my answer. “What are you going to be when you grow up?” The question was posed by the check out lady at Town and Country Thriftway and like most five year olds I had a ready answer. Even at a young age I knew when I was being patronized. “of course…Wonder woman” I could see the judgement in her eyes and sensed her mocking tone. Was she blind!? I was wearing my Wonder Woman swim suit…In the grocery store. (Looking back at childhood photos it’s painfully obvious I was either allowed to dress myself or I was raised by a band of hippie lesbian gypsy hobos.)

I loved my Wonder Woman swimsuit. It was my favorite article of clothing. Though I lacked the gold head band, I improvised with my own bright red plastic one. I spent many an afternoon fighting the forces of evil in my backyard. This is not easy to do as an only child with no neighbor kids around. The forces of evil usually included a great dane and a poodle mutt hybrid. Fighting was more like chasing them around and trying to retrieve my red headband from the great dane. It was a noble cause. Dasher the Husky Malamute mix from next door acted as my sidekick. I realize Lynda Carter didn’t have a dog but I figured if the Bionic woman could have one…so could I. The only thing I was missing was proper arm wear. I had been unsuccessful in my attempt to acquire the proper superpower accoutrement. I decided to take matters in to my own hands and make my own. I was a crafty five year old…and sneaky. I fashioned myself some wristbands out of a Tuna fish cans. Dasher and I set off to fight crime. (well…pick blackberries and sneak around the neighbors yard, while he licked my wrists) At some point the cat food cans had left their mark. The can opener had left some rough edges and had cut into my wrists. My grandmother was the one who noticed and was terribly concerned. I didn’t want to get in trouble for using the can opener and refused to tell her why my wrists were cut up. My grandma grilled me for answers. She consulted with my best friend’s parents. There was talk of sending me to “see someone” to discuss my self destructive tendencies. Didn’t she understand? It wasn’t self destruction. I was trying to save the world from destruction. You just can’t do that without a suitable pair of wristbands.
I miss those days. I miss knowing exactly what I want to be when I grow up. I miss the childlike creativity and most of all I miss that time in my life where I was content to wear nothing but a swimsuit and red plastic headband. Ahh childhood…it didn’t all suck.


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