10/25/04
Dear TwinkleGrammers,
I was chatting with a friend this morning. She'd just come from getting her flu shot. "Did you get a sucker?" I teased, wondering if she'd been brave. She had not received a sucker, she said. "WHAT'S UP WITH THAT?" I jokingly wailed on her behalf.
Then it occurred to me. "You know," I said, moving right into remembering my own recent experience, "I go to my dentist's office and the entire time I'm sitting there with my mouth open, I'm looking at this giant plastic bin of WONDERFUL little toys on top of his cabinet."
Yes, it all comes back to me as I'm talking to her: The bin is filled with colorful plastic rings and puzzles and figurines and things I can't quite figure out through my squint, my squint caused by the dentist's fingers nudging my upper lip into my cheekbone, which nearly scrunches my eyes closed since my cheek is so apple like. (Notice how kind I was to myself there?) So I sit there, mouth agape, tonsils flapping in the breeze, and think about all those fun toys, remembering when I used to be able to dig through the dentist's giant plastic bin of bliss until I squealed (all you can do with a numb tongue) with delight at finding Just The Right Little Pleasure.
"When I get done at the dentist's now," I said to her all pouty and indignant, "all I get is dental floss." (very short pause) "When did *we* get too old to stop getting the toys?" I asked.
When did we get too old to …
When …
I recently spoke at an Illinois State Twins Club event (hello, you Wild Women!) and I recounted a story about the day I accidentally found a very old bottle of bubble stuff. I was angry about the mess in the cabinet under my kitchen that wasn't allowing me to handily find what I was looking for. In a fit of exasperation (and boy, I can really have them!) I used my arm as a shovel and swept everything out of the cabinet onto the floor.
There was the bubble stuff. My "baby" was now … old. "No wonder this is a mess!" I chastised myself a good one for getting so behind on cleaning. I figured the bubble stuff had evaporated so I shook the bottle. It hadn't. I figured it would no longer make bubbles. It did.
And they were beautiful, twirling and whirling in the breezes, sunlight illuminating their magical dance.
"When did *I* get too old for bubble stuff?" I wondered. I not only used it all up but I went and bought more. Such a cheap, simple delight. And bonus: I was calmed by the deep breathing of inhale, blow, inhale, blow. Ahhhhhh
When do you think YOU got to old to (fill in the blank)? What simple pleasure have you absent mindedly—or by choice—perhaps errantly left behind? Forgotten about? Given up on?
Until I write again,
Charlene
PS I'm heading out tomorrow on my On The Way to Partonville Mini Book Tour (www.welcometopartonville.com/tour.html) . If you live between Chicago and southern Illinois, give the final stops a look-see. Then, my last stop for the Official Touring Season will be in Winona MN 11/13. BLESS EVERYONE who came to see me, and all those who might yet stop by.
PSS There is a new interview with me posted at http://faithfulreader.com/authors/au-baumbich-charlene-ann.asp I think this is my blabby-est one yet. (read at your own risk)
PSS The television show appearance has been moved to THIS WEEK (maybe even Monday, 10/25/04)! Check your local TLN listing for the "Aspiring Women" program. I'm on the "Favorite Things" show.
PSSS Don't forget the deadline to order Book Plates is 11/10/2004. You can order up to 12. CONDITION: You must be a TwinkleGram Subscriber. INSTRUCTIONS:Type Book Plate Offer in the subject line. Send your snail mail address and to whom you want them inscribed, if anyone. (If you don't say, I'll just sign them.) Autographed books make good Christmas presents!
Charlene Ann Baumbich
Author, Speaker, Humorist
STILL ON THE ROAD
Web site: http://www.welcometopartonville.com
E-mail: charlene@dontmissyourlife.com
To Read About the Dearest Dorothy Books, Click HERE!
