Smells Like Children
I baby-sat today. I've never actually done that for non-family members, without my twin to do the dirty work. Two girls, 4 and 5 years old. They were sweet and quiet. Laurel, the eldest, is mildly autistic and very smart. I gravitated more towards her instantly, because was much like a young Lexxi. We were at the park, Travis was playing with Anne and I was blowing bubbles for Laurel. I went to the restroom, but before I left (because of paranoia that my mother instilled in me) I told her not to go anywhere with a stranger. When I came back, she was sulking by herself. When I asked what was wrong she looked at me with these sad blue eyes and asked; "Do you think I'm crazy? Sometimes you look at me like I'm crazy."
I almost burst into tears and had to look away for a moment before I explained to her that I thought she was very smart, nice, and not crazy at all.
"Do you think you're crazy, Laurel?"
"...no. Sometimes it just feels like people think that way."
There was so much I wanted to say to her. Ofcourse, I couldn't, because the last thing a five-year-old needs is my life story. It just hurt so bad, because I recall asking the same question when I was a child.
I almost burst into tears and had to look away for a moment before I explained to her that I thought she was very smart, nice, and not crazy at all.
"Do you think you're crazy, Laurel?"
"...no. Sometimes it just feels like people think that way."
There was so much I wanted to say to her. Ofcourse, I couldn't, because the last thing a five-year-old needs is my life story. It just hurt so bad, because I recall asking the same question when I was a child.