all of us have done something strange during our childhood years. we've had our share of quirks and faults and moments where we've been caught doing something (innocently) weird and awkward when we were little.
some of my childhood weirdness has still stuck with me during my teenage years (proof above). but that's not what i'm going to talk about in this post. i'm going to enlighten you guys on the stuff that i've thankfully stopped doing, and the strange kiddish habits that i am glad to have grown out of.
i used to indulge in a lot of activities that might never be considered 'normal' for a child. some of these include:
chewing on the limbs of my dolls
it started when i was 3 years old, when i first got a taste of sleeping away from my mum whenever she used to go out at night with my dad. on those particular nights i used to sleep in a tiny, comfortable bed in my grandparents' room, and have my grandmum tuck me in each night. i used to enjoy the quality time i spent with my grandparents, but on one night, i was super cranky and decided that i really missed my mum and wanted to sleep between my parents on their bed, no matter what. since my mum and dad were out, and my grandparents were not in their room at that particular moment, i got extremely irritated and wanted to take out my frustration in the most attention-grabbing way possible.
due to the fact that i was too young to think of all the absurd things that i was capable of doing to achieve the reaction i wanted, i did the first thing that came to my mind: grab a Waitress Barbie doll directly in my line of sight and take out my anger on her in doll-talk. when that didn't prove satisfactory, i got even more annoyed and did the most unladylike thing i could have ever done at that moment: viciously gnawed on the Waitress Barbie doll's arm.
it was fifteen minutes into that barbaric act when my sense snapped back into me and i realized what i was doing. i slowly unclenched my jaw and freed the Waitress Barbie doll's arm from my mouth, and when i looked at it, i let out a huge shriek. the doll's arm was a hideously mangled mess. it then dawned on me that i had destroyed something dear to me just because of a mood swing, and that made me really, really upset. i started wailing and crying at the top of my voice. it took me a couple of days to get over it.
once the OMG-i-killed-Waitress-Barbie phase was over, i realized that maybe the idea of putting a doll's limb in my mouth wasn't such a bad idea, and i had just taken it a little too far on the first try. the soft plastic of my other Barbies' legs and arms became a temptation. whilst playing with them i nibbled here and there, and began to gently chew on them when i was out of other stuff to do. this carried on for a couple of years, till i had perfected the act of chewing and left no marks at all.
i can't remember how i stopped.
eating the biscuit part of an Oreo and leaving the cream
this practically made me an outcast among my first and second grade peeps. all the children used to do the 'in' thing in school: lick the white cream of the Oreo cookie and discard the black biscuit part. i on the other hand, used to scrape the white cream off the nearest surface and devour the biscuit with pleasure that was not understandable to anyone my age or below.
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| me |
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| them (with cream in their mouths) |
NO ONE GOT THAT I DIDN'T LIKE THE CREAM. i just didn't. i was ridiculed for this act of not-cream-liking for at least two years. and then Chips Ahoy became the new thing to eat.
imagining every person under a motorcycle helmet to be a total hero
this was something i had decided to take with me to the grave, but i feel like talking about it all of a sudden. so yeah, i might regret it later because it is one of the most embarrassing parts of my little-girl-ness.
from ages 4 to 7, whenever i saw a motorcyclist wearing a helmet that covered his entire face, i always imagined the face underneath to me something like this:
hence making all motorcyclists with helmets+visors look like this to me:
even though it was apparent to the rest of the world that those guys must have been 30-year-old uncles or pimply teenagers or just extremely plain-looking human beings. I HAD A CRUSH ON EVERY MOTORCYCLIST WITH A NON-VISIBLE FACE. you can laugh now.
favouring the colour black in every drawing
when i was in preschool, all my teachers were worried. they thought i was a disturbed child, solely on the basis that while all my fellow classmates were making pretty pictures out of bright colours, i was scribbling away with a single black colour pencil on whatever drawing assignment i had been given to do. my mum was not at all perturbed. she said i was a happy child and encouraged me to draw as i pleased. the teachers all showed their concern, but little-me proved them wrong by starting to use bright colours after a while.
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| teacher and i. |
i never stopped with the bright-colour-usage after that. just look at my blog. :P and my favourite colour is orange since as long as i can remember.
x
speaking of remembering, this is all i can remember for now :O which is enough to give you an idea of how strangely i used to behave when i was a child. oh well.
i am glad to have changed. i stopped playing with dolls when i was 11. i can't remember the last time i ate an Oreo. i barely spare a glance at motorcyclists. i love colours.
please make me feel better about little-girl-me and share your weird childhood behavior, too! i would love to know how weird we've all been as little kids.
x
this is a repost. i added the drawings.