Adventure #21: I Had a Younger Brother in Kindergarten, even if My Parents Didn’t Know

I have always had an active imagination and have enjoyed creating stories, even in Kindergarten, apparently. Recently, I remembered a conversation in Kindergarten when the French teacher’s aide sat me down to ask what I had drawn and written in my journal:

Me: I said, “I play games with Davíd and my little brother.”

Aide: Is David your older brother?

Me: His name is Davíd.

Aide: Oh, sorry. Is Davíd your older brother?

Me: Yes.

Aide: And you have a younger brother and have lots of fun with him?

Me: (Looking away) …Yes.

Aide: Babies can be so much fun, can’t they?

Me: …Yes.

Aide: How old is he?

Me: …A baby.

Aide: Is he eighteen months?

Me: …Yes.

Aide: Do his diapers stink?

Me: He doesn’t wear diapers, but I wish he did, then I could give him a bottle and change his diaper.

Aide: I think your mommy would change him.

Me: No, I would want to change him.

Aide: …Okay. What kind of games do you like to play with him?

Me: Stuffed animals. Hi-Ho Cheerio. Knockout. Mouse Trap.

Aide: You play all these with your younger brother?

Me: And with Davíd, sometimes.

Aide: …What’s your younger brother’s name?

Me:…Um…Robert.

This continued for a while. Eventually, there was an open house with our parents, and my teacher became so excited to see my parents. They had a conversation like this:

Teacher: Misses Inman, Jonathan’s mother! It’s so good to finally meet you. Where is your baby?

Mom: …My baby?

Sleep Well Little Friend wasn't a Cabbage Patch Kid, but he was similar to this

Teacher: Jonathan writes all the time about the fun he has with his little brother.

Mom: …He does?

Teacher: Yes, so I’m surprised to see him not with you tonight.

Mom: He’s never had a little brother.

Teacher: Really? Are you sure?

Mom: Uh, yeah!

Teacher: Well, of course you would be.

Mom: What kind of things does he do with this “little brother?”

Teacher: Well, they play games together.

Mom: (Laughing) That’s his doll!

Teacher: What?

Mom: He is talking about his doll. He has a little boy doll he’s named Sleep Well Little Friend. He must have been writing his doll as his little brother.

She was right. I always knew that the little boy in the pictures I was drawing was my doll, but I thought I would try to make others believe I had a younger brother, because I wanted one.

Adventure #20: It'll All Work Out

I.LOVE.CHILDREN! They are the joy of life! I have been an uncle since I was eight and have been around each of my nieces and nephew enough to have a personal relationship with them all. I have spent time with kids! I don't know that a life without children would be worth living. In fact, I strongly considered going into Early Childhood Education to eventually teach kindergarten, but whenever it came to mind, I felt like I should remain a theatre major. And especially now that I've graduated and am unemployed, I've often wondered if I chose the correct field to study, especially considering how much joy children bring and that even in my family they might not always be accessible, depending on where I live.

With my youngest niece on a sleigh ride in December 2012

Overall, getting to know myself better through my college years, I see that being a teacher would not keep my attention, because I pick up new interests quickly. I would do it for a year, say, "That was fun. Whew. Bring in the next batch," and then decide halfway through my second year that I wanted to do something totally unrelated to my field....and honestly, I would probably try acting.

As it is, I still get my fill of children by being an uncle and think I much more enjoy being with children related to me than with other people's kids. (There's a sense of more freedom in disciplining them within the shared  family values. And their bodily issues are much more comfortable, being familiar.) I hope to eventually be a father.

Even beyond that, for three Sundays last month, I attended the nursery in a church ward with some friends who were the nursery leaders, and for the other Sunday of the month, I accompanied my mother to her Sunday School class of eight-year-olds. It helped me see that even if it is not part of my career to interact with children, opportunities can be provided to fulfill that for me. What a glorious thing! It has been a great comfort to me, and I have felt confirmations that I made the right decisions in my education. You know, ideally, I think it would be great to work on a children's show, a (good quality) television show for children, like Mister Roger's Neighborhood, Blue's Clues, or Sesame Street. Even if I wasn't with children on the show, I'm sure the environment would be something I could thrive in. It would be such a treat! I'm not too sure how long I could stay in one place at one time, but who knows? What's important is that I feel like there's possibilities and that it'll all work out.

Adventure #18: Too Immature for Kindergarten

Once upon an eon ago, school officials thought I'd be too young to start Kindergarten, because my birthday was in mid-summer. They said I was plenty intelligent, even remarkably more intelligent than my older peers, but I just didn't seem as mature as my peers, having little interest in life skills activities, while making uninterpretable drawings and writing in all caps.

WELL, SHOOT! My mom already taught me how to hold scissors; I NEVER liked coloring, not even in the church nursery, and still, to this day, can't color in the lines; and I mostly picked up letter shapes from studying a computer keyboard. I could write in lower case, but the whole testing thing made me nervous, so I reverted to what I thought they might want, because it seemed more official. According to them, I'm probably smart enough for my college degree but still wouldn't be mature enough to join Kindergarten.

My mom still considered my wishes and asked if I wanted to go to Kindergarten. I said yes but didn't tell her it was only because I wanted to ride a school bus.

Adventure #15: eBay Selling My 5th Grade Crush

In my first year English class three years ago, we had to write a persuasive paper to use as a product description to sell an intrinsic item on eBay. I chose my 5th grade crush and read my paper aloud to the class for feedback. They loved it! My professor laughed throughout and commented that I had the "best.last.line.EVER!"...my item never sold, but the paper is fun to read:

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As a hopeless romantic, my life pretty much sucks, especially as a deep feeling, sissy college boy prone to attachment! Therefore, it would help me a lot if I could shake these romantic feelings I have been carrying for a girl from my fifth grade class. My method consists of ridding myself of a proxy—a broken heart shaped paper (two half hearts) with listings of my romantic feelings for her inside the heart. I do not have the money for therapy to settle this issue, since my collegiate institution requires I pay tuition. Hence, I have fallen into alternative ways to relieve myself of these feelings for a girl whom we shall call Annie.

To be honest, the first time I met Annie I thought she was a boy, because of her strong tomboy image. On the first day of school, my teacher requested the silence of some feminine giggling. I glanced in the direction to which she spoke to behold, what I thought to be, a group of three girls and a boy who was the cause of the girls’ laughter. I thought it rude for my teacher to refer to that boy as a girl. The next day, I saw that same boy enter and leave the girls’ restroom. I was shocked!  However, when I saw my teacher’s casual appearance as she witnessed the same event, I accepted that this boy was really a girl—Annie.

Annie was the first girl I felt strong romantic yearnings for. I had previously had a countless number of crushes on girls, often at the same time. Eventually, I developed strong emotions directed towards Annie. No other girl mattered to me, anymore. None were so precious and special as her. My life brightened just by seeing her everyday in class. Her sparkling blue eyes always calmed me and carried me away into mushy, frolicking fantasies. She was also very funny, and the goofy qualities of our personalities meshed so perfectly. We were a killer comic team when entertaining our classmates.

I still remember the sinking feeling I felt inside when another girl from our class brought up Annie’s boyfriend. I had no idea she had one, and Annie instantly turned red and shied away from the topic as she watched my surprised and hurt reaction. Gradually, I calmed myself, thinking, Annie may not be mine now, but someday we will have each other. Soon, my parents informed me that we were moving to a small town three hours away. When my teacher revealed this news to my class, Annie’s face shared the same expression mine had when I heard of her boyfriend.

The months following my family’s move were mostly spent in loneliness, daydreaming that someone’s house in the neighborhood would go up for sale and then Annie’s family would move in. I tried to escape these ideas by facing reality and recognizing that I probably will never see her again. However, that was too painful, so I maintained my imaginative thoughts. I longed for her uplifting companionship.

Since then, I have been able to gather more crushes, but none develop into the same rushing intensity as with Annie. None have compared to her. Whenever something comes close, my mind remembers and pictures her. I feel guilty for any feelings for anyone I try to explore, as though I am being unfaithful to her.

Currently, I am a student in Provo, Utah, at Brigham Young University—the marriage meat market capital of the world! My feelings for Annie serve no purpose in my life right now. They haunt me! I have no contact with her and have not even been able to find her via Facebook! Our relationship is, basically, hopeless. Besides, as I have considered her ultimate tomboy image, I have come to strongly believe that she very well may be a full-boar lesbian by now. Once again, these feelings have no use to me, but, perhaps, feeling this way for a lesbian-like person may be quite tantalizing for someone else.

I offer these feelings to anyone interested, whether it is because you have not felt such feelings for another, yet, and desire to do so or because you like to gain these same feelings for several people and play them all. I am open to any reason to house these stirrings elsewhere. I really do believe this method will help rid myself of these feelings for her. Your purposes with the sent document are completely up to you. You may even write the name of your ex-lover on them and use them for toilet paper. If you are adventurous, you can reconnect with your mother by sending her one half of the heart and then meeting up to complete it. If you are thrill crazy, you could try this with your mother-in-law.

I remind you that I am only selling the feelings for Annie. I have tried to make her sound vague to protect her identity, since it is not her that I am selling (she is not a slave, and I am not her trader).

Happy bidding!

Adventure #1: Dumbing Down for the World

When I was in grade school, as soon as I knew the answer to a question, I excitedly raised my hand to share what I had to say. As I came closer to junior high age, this trait was seen as an irritant to some of my peers, who mocked and labeled me as an arrogant know-it-all, especially when I was nearly the only interactive student in the class that day. Being a sensitive individual, I started withholding my ideas, but when the new school year started, I forgot my previous problem and returned to my old habits of enthusiastically answering every question.

As I got even older, others would mention me hogging classroom attention. By this time, I was more aware of the welfare of those around me and feared I may be impeding on others’ opportunity to think and learn, so I returned to keeping my peace. Now, I rarely, if ever, add to the classroom conversation out of laziness and habit.

Further, as I’ve grown and become more socially apt and open with people and understanding them, I find myself asking questions I already figured the answer to, just to help smooth and continue a social interaction. Also, as I’ve tried to explain some intriguing concepts that, to me, are simple and easy to understand, some people get confused and tell me I’m a very deep person. To me, things are never “deep;” they just are what they are and should not be shied away from. As I’ve considered the phenomenon of “depth,” I find that even water is not necessarily deep unless it is over your head. When I feel myself delving into discussing a "deep" or complicated matter and if my audience is one whom I'd consider possibly unable to really comprehend it or if I'm not in the mood for technical explanations, especially if it may lead to confusion, I say, "I'm sure there's more to it than that," or something similar (but I also say this when I'm keeping a secret; somewhat ironic, eh), even if I know what the "more" is.

Most recently, some of my professors, in describing some assignments, ask us to write as if we are writing to a group of people who have twenty more IQ points than us. When I have written in this manner, some of my peers or professors who have read my drafts basically ask me to dumb down my papers, even though I’ve written in a manner that I consider would be comprehendible by someone with an IQ of 170. Regardless, these classroom editors do not understand what I am talking about. However, other peers have read the same paper and admire it.