Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Of Ogres and New Beginnings
Ok, after all this talk of self mutilation and my (and every other mom's) worries about what, exactly, teenagers are going to find out there, my daughter unintentionally lightened the mood. She's not returning to school until mid-September due to construction on her building, so she has had plenty of time to think about what fifth grade might have in store.
"Are you scared?" Christopher asked her at dinner. "'Cause fifth grade stinks. It's when I first starting really hating school."
"I'm only scared of one thing," Emma, who is quite used to the drama of teen speak, said.
"Boys," Philip offered, "the ones who push."
We all looked up. Emma has had issues with boys in general, and the ones who push specifically. This has been her number one pet peeve since kindergarten.
"So what are you afraid of?" I asked, trying not to sound worried (you can imagine what was going through my head at that exact moment).
"Ogres," she responded matter-of-factly. "I am really, really scared of them."
"New Jersey doesn't have a whole lot of ogres," I reassured her. "At least, I've never seen one. I think they hate beaches."
Emma sighed. "Mom, it's not like you know who they are. They hide it. Remember that story we read, about the women who were witches but only in secret?"
(We had read the Roald Dahl story over the summer aptly titled, "The Witches")
"They can look just like you and me. Well," (and this really cracked her up), "not like ME, but maybe like you. That's the scary part. You just don't know who they are."
Ogres. I had almost forgotten about them.
When her brothers began smiling, Emma admonished them, "If you laugh at an ogre,or if you don't believe in them, they get mad, then they come after you first. I'm just going to walk right by them and not think anything. Nothing at all. I'm just going to go blank so they don't think anything when they see me. Then they can't get me."
At least she's got a plan.