30 Day Writing Challenge:
Write about something you don't understand.
Funny how we try to hide some things about ourselves even though there is nothing wrong with them.
Like junk drawers. I cringe when someone opens that draw in our kitchen. I'm embarrassed and want to hide it as if no one else has one.
But where would I be without our junk drawer? Trying to fix a vacuum without a screwdriver, that’s where!
I don’t know what’s in your junk drawer, but ours has:
a half dozen wedding invitations
6 origami paper kits to do with grandkids
an inflatable solar light
a tube of chapstick
2 rolls of packaging tape
a farm bureau membership card
cleaner and cloth for eye-glasses
an assortment of paper clips
a letter from Ty's flight commander
a scratch paper with family history names I need to check on
a bumper sticker from the Army
loose addresses torn from Christmas card envelopes
business card from paint company
felt bumpers for the inside of cupboards
concealed carry permit
a couple of recipes
a coupon that expired in 2015
illustration sketches for a book
an old toothbrush for scrubbing
screws, lots of screws
2 insurance cards
a babysitting coupon from a Relief Society activity
and some crumbs
These items in and of themselves aren't embarrassing. In fact, they're useful to the smooth-running of our household; but the combination of them all in one spot makes me self-conscious.
Another thing I want to hide is weight, as if no one else in the world owns any mass. I read that women usually lie and say they weigh less than they do. Men on the other hand, if they lie, say they weigh more than they do.
Creams, potions, surgeries, hair dye, and clothing are all designed to veil our age as if the years we’ve lived are something to be ashamed of. Wrinkles suggest we've been in the game of life a long time, yet we want to hide them.
I don’t understand why we hide junk drawers, weight and age. It seems silly that intelligent beings that can figure complex math, read a written language, and communicate across the world try to hide the obvious. While I may not know why we hide these things, I just know most of us do, with the exception of the mother of my Tongan friend, Seine.
I met Seine in college and because my roommate and I were the only ones to have bathroom scales, Seine came to our room to weigh. One night she nervously slid the scales out of the closet and stepped on them. When the dial settled, she cried, “Oh no! My mother will be so angry with me because I have lost two of them. I only have 167 of them left.”
So let that be a lesson to me. I shouldn't worry about hiding things, I should worry about losing them.
Long live the junk drawer.
Long live the junk drawer.