December 30, 2013

The Princess and the Pee

**There are a few things you need to know to prepare you for the story below that prepares you for the post below.  1. I was young.  2. I was stupid.  Now you can proceed. **

When you are raised by an absent father and a single mother trying to make it on her own, you are often shuffled around between relatives and family friends. The result is that, on occasion, you are left to your own devices. Which is awesome if you're a wild and free 9-year-old. Not so awesome if you're the cousin of said wild and free 9-year-old.

It began as a simple water fight. And then things got real. And it got ugly. Real ugly. I sprayed water in my cousin's eye. So he dumped a cup of steaming hot water on me. It hurt and I was mad, so I did what most logical 4th graders would do. I peed in a cup and dumped it on him. That'll learn him.

Whoa, whoa. Before you get all grossed out, know I diluted it. It was only like 1/2 pee and 1/2 water. I mean I'm not a monster.

Anyway, pee ratios aside, I got in trouble. A LOT of trouble. My biggest mistake was bragging to my goody two-shoes sister, Desi, who immediately tattled on me. She was always doing the right thing that one. Well, no one seemed to care about the burn marks on my arm from the boiling water bath he gave me (Note to self: pee trumps scalding water. Every. Time). And truth be told, I felt guilty. Super guilty. It was kind of a chump move, regardless of whether he deserved it or not (cause we all know he totally did). I was sure I had emotionally scarred him for life and the "Pee Boy" label would follow him wherever he went.

He pretty much stopped talking to me for, well, forever. And then he moved away. And then we became teenagers. And then we became adults. I was certain that when we saw each other again, he'd have a wealth of potty jokes all lined up to taunt me with (Urine trouble, anyone?). And I'd be pretty deserving of it all and apologize a million more times and inquire about how that single incident shaped his childhood.

And then I saw him 20+ years later. He did not harass me about it. He did not mention it. Because he did not even remember it. Not a single memory of that day. It did not haunt him as I, for years, had believed it had. Such a seemingly important thing had all but been forgotten as life ran its course and other things, more important things, took priority in his memory vault.

People forget. People forgive. People move on, and things, once seemingly important things, no longer matter.

I spend so much time caught up in those little things. The not-gonna-matter-in-20-years things. Most of the time those things are flaws. Minor little flaws. My flaws, your flaws, the flaws of my kids.

I harass myself for my flaws, find fault in you for yours, and nearly lose my mind dealing with the flaws belonging to my 2 small trolls. So my resolution is simple this year: Ignore flaws.

Not forgive them.

Not recognize them.

Not attempt to correct them.

But ignore them. As in overlook them indefinitely.

Because at the end of 2014, I suspect all those little minor things that stress me out and tangle up my thoughts and dictate my moods will seem as insignificant as those of 2013.

There's a book someone wrote along those same lines years ago. Something about "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff," or something equally uplifting.  I'd say I'd refer to that as my motto for 2014, but that book doesn't even mention what to do when someone starts a urine fight with you, so I don't think it's a comprehensive guide at all.

So I'm choosing a nice quote from George Carlin to live my 2014 by:

Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things.

Pretty much sums up my New Year's Resolution.
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