The Drunkenhousewife has had a contest going on her blog. She wants to know why and how people are weird. Hugh won although I think my fear of cotton balls should trump his weirdness, but I am not in charge of the contest am I?
I thought of a story that I told BT last night that goes along with Christmas but shows my weirdness all at the same time....I will have to say that this was not my favorite Christmas ever, but it sure was memorable.
I don't know how old I was when we drove to Disneyworld. I must have been still in Elementary School. We left in a Midas, some sort of RV from the 70s that had a bed and a kitchen and stuff like that. It was rockin' in those days. We left El Paso and went East. I honestly don't remember much of the drive, only that it was forever long and that I slept a lot. We started having car trouble in Mississippi. Don't ever have car trouble in Mississippi! Ugh.
We had to stop for hours, days, what felt like WEEKS to get the car fixed. I remember buying groceries at the store and having to go to a hotel for the night while the Midas got fixed. We were not happy.
(Just as a total side note, I had just gotten the book on how to beat the rubic's cube and I was working on that so hard. I finally got it solved and some mechanic guy was so amazed that I was able to put it together that he asked to borrow it to show the rest of the mechanics. I never got my rubic's cube back. Someday I will go to Mississippi and get my rubic's cube back! Some day!)
After that whole messy rubic's cube thing, I was certainly in a mood wasn't in the Christmas spirit and I started asking my parents questions. One of them was, "Kim's cousin tells me that Santa isn't real. Is that true?"
Silence from my parents.
Then they told of their lies, their deceit. THEY were the ones who put together the swing set in the living room. Not Santa. They were the ones who had provided me with the toys, not Santa. My heart was broken. I wanted to know no more. I didn't want to hear about it. It was mind boggling.
But then, I started thinking. What if these people aren't my parents? What if they are aliens that have taken over my parents bodies? They have come down to earth to SAY those things about Santa so they could harm him! Yep. These were just shells of my parents. My parent's souls were in a space ship somewhere, waiting for me to save their bodies! Surely these could not be my parents. I was convinced. I had to ask questions. Lots and lots of questions to know if they were truly aliens and if so, where were my real parents.
I swear I asked them millions of questions. I couldn't help it.
I wanted to know. I NEEDED to know. My parents lives were in danger! So I asked and asked and asked questions only my parents would know. They answered them all correctly, but it didn't surprise me. Aliens steal your brains too.
I watched them very closely all during that vacation, continuing to test and see if they really were aliens.
Somehow they never seemed to think it was strange, weird even, that I thought they were aliens. They never seemed to tire of the questions and were willing to answer any and all I threw out.
I guess they were used to having a weird daughter back then. I guess they were used to me and my ways.
And I guess I will never know if they are still being controlled by aliens. But I will say, I am still watching them... and secretly, I believe in Santa, no matter what they say!
