about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Dear Ira

You probably don't know me as anything other than the relatively new tenor at the choir. You don't even know my name. Conversely, I don't know you very well either as anything other than the niece of my choirmaster.

That said, I have a few words you might want to listen to. I bet you won't fully understand what I'm saying until at least five years from now, but I'll say it anyway.

If you knew anything at all about me, I generally dislike kids. I especially dislike your brothers and cousins because they're so boisterous and unruly, and I'm the strict disciplinarian type who won't shirk from whupping some butt in the name of setting kids straight.

I admire you because you're very well-adjusted, given your tender age of nine. You act like the stereotypical big sister: stern, responsible, well-meaning and perfectionist, if a little bitchy and catty for it. That's generally a good thing, a virtue. The way you volunteered to sing in place of our absentee members yesterday is very, very admirable.

But let me tell you this: you're too young for that.

You're way too young to become bitchy and catty. (Er, "bitch" is a bad word. I don't mean it in a bad way, but don't imitate me saying it...not just yet. ) You're still too young to be fretting over stuff, especially stuff that grown-ups like us should be concerned with. You're too young to cover for the idiotic foolishness of your brothers the way you do.

Most of all, you're too young to be wearing a razor-sharp frown the way I see you do.

You're a nine-year-old kid, a girl at that. Honestly, I think you should be enjoying it. Enjoy your ballet lessons, enjoy your classmates, enjoy the company of your friends and don't worry unnecessarily. Kids have the license to get away with stupid things the way most grown-ups just wish they could. Don't be in a hurry to grow up---I'm speaking from experience and it's not good.

Don't act like me because you'll end up like me. I don't want that kind of life for you. I want you to be happy in these halcyon days because they will pass by much, much faster than you think, and when they do, you can never have them back no matter how much you want them to. Enjoy what you can, while you can. Your mom and dad may put limits and dampers to your fun, but I know them and they mean you well.

I don't know how much more often I will be able to see you. I don't even know if we'll ever be properly introduced. Those are questions for the future, and you don't see me worrying about them, so you shouldn't too. All I want is to see you smiling more often, regardless of whether you know me or not.

Pardon me for being so long-winded...I know kids have short attention spans nowadays so I'll leave you to your business. Just stay happy.


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