I like to talk - any wonder that I started a blog? I talk, talk , talk - from my early childhood to present day I can think of nothing better than to talk. Not everyone shared my love for chatting away. A favourite family story is about the time my father set me on the side of the road because I refused to stop talking in the car.
My father used to take us for 'mystery tours' in the car usually on Sunday afternoons which I later realized was an attempt to give my poor mother a break from all the kids. On one of these 'tours', when we were all bundled into the car, sans seat belts, and taking up any available space like the console between the driver and passenger seat, and the small space under the rear window, my father apparently fed up with my constant chatter, threatened me that if I did not 'shut up', he was going to leave me on the side of the road. Dear readers, you know the outcome! Of course I did not stop and true to his word, he pulled over to the side of the road and left me there, my arms firmly crossed on my chest with a defiant look on my face. He pulled away only to stop a few yards ahead and then backed up. He said the rest of the children were crying so loudly, he could not stand it. Amazingly my sibling saved me from being left there. I am sure they regretted this as I went on to terrorize them over the course of our shared childhood!
My daughter complained that her daughter talked all the time in the car and it drove her crazy - yet when I drive with my granddaughter, I embrace her constant chatter! She talks about other cars that we pass - whether they are happy or sad (not really sure what her criteria is). She wants the window open - no close the window. Open the sunroof - no close the sunroof. We talk about how great it would be if Cranky the Crane (a Thomas the Train character) could pick my car up and place us ahead of the long red light. We talk about what would happen if I left the sunroof open and it rained! Would Ollie the Orca (from Trader Joe's) splash out and eat me! I see myself in my granddaughter and delight in our verbal exchange!
Overheard in the car while driving home from school and stopped at a rail crossing: "Why do trains drive on the tracks?" "Do cars drive on tracks?" "Why not?" "Who put those tracks there?" "Why did you drive over the tracks?" "Where is the train Mama?" "Is it behind us, Mama?" "Why do trains not drive on roads?" "Where is the train going, Mama?" "Why do people ride on trains?" "Why do people not drive their cars?" "Can cars go on trains?"
ReplyDeleteAnd if I don't answer a particular question to her liking, she just keeps repeating it.
She's brilliant. But it's soooo draining.
I COMPLETELY understand why Papa put you out at the side of the road!
I can't remember when I first heard this story but a question remains. How old were you, Cecily, when Daddy put you out of the car?
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure but I know we were still living on Whalley Drive so I was probably around 4 or 5! I recall having no fear at being put out of the car and only feeling angry at the injustice of being punished for just wanting to talk.
ReplyDeleteCecily, my mother did the same thing to me! However, she decided I had to walk home while she followed behind in the car, soooo, to teach her a lesson, I ran thru a field so that she couldn't follow me. I wanted to scare her, so that she wouldn't ever kick me out of the car again, lol....It is such a wonderful gift to hear a child chatter away.
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