My sensitive girl
At two-and-a-half, my little Daisy is doing an impressive job of articulating her feelings, I think. This evening I was reading her a book that is ordinarily one of her favorites: the crazy, bizarre Amelia Bedelia and the Surprise Shower. Midway through, Daisy asked me to stop reading because, she said, "Mrs. Rogers yells at Amelia Bedelia." She told me, "I don't like it when Mrs. Rogers yells at her." I was so proud of her for putting that into words. We ended up agreeing to read the rest of the book, but skip the yelling part. I have the feeling Daisy is a bit of a sensitive soul... which reminds me of myself and is hence a little scary.
posted by Sarah Goss at 9:21 PM
8 Comments:
I felt the same way as a child, believe it or not.
G
Gompy, is that you? G?
PS
I DO believe it, Gompy. It's not hard to believe!
Daisy may have received a double barrell shot of sensitivity genes (if such exist -- a nod to you social constructionists out there). I was just recently recounting the literal hours of weeping and days of depression I would experience year after year in the late 70s after my annual viewings of the "Nestor the Long-Eared Donkey" Christmas special. On the other hand, a brief internet research session revealed to me that I was not alone in being affected this way by that program. (There seems to be a small but substantial demographic of folks who were traumatized in the late 70s by that show and by the first network TV airing of The Exorcist, a group of which I am proud to be a member.)
This is familiar to me. My older son used to get very upset by the TV shows Clifford and Curious George whenever it seemed Clifford/George was about to do something that someone might get upset over. We would have to turn them off.
I'm with Daisy on this, too. I used to have to leave the room if a character on TV was going to get in trouble. I couldn't stand to watch them get found out and yelled at! Especially, "The Sorcerer's Apprentice." I hid in the kitchen with my hands over my ears until my mom came to get me and tell me that part was over!
Jenny
Yes, that "G" was me.
Gompy
When I was a kid I could not bear to hear the song, "I'm a Poor Little Lamb Who Has Lost Its Way". Even now the very thought of that song is horrifying. I was teased by various adults in the family who would sing it to get a laugh at my reaction. M.B. (Proud Gommy)
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