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Miss fiddle twiddle pick bang I've never been able to sit still. "Miss fiddle twiddle pick bang." That was my mother's favourite nickname for me, though it was right up there with "I'll always love you, but sometimes I won't like the things you do" in terms of things I'd rather not hear her say. It began early. I chewed the spines off of all the books in the bottom two rows of the bookcases after I learned to crawl. I could physically bounce my crib across my bedroom to chew on the wooden window sill. I drew on all the walls with crayons and before that I, would pull whatever what was at hand in my diaper and smear that. Just after I had learned to print my name, I wrote it in twelve inch letters in permanent black magic marker across my mother's new white area rug. I have a fleeting memory of her sitting on the rug, gin and tonic in hand, using nail clippers to remove the evidence of my crime. I've calmed down to a reasonable level of twitchery. Or so I'd thought. Yesterday afternoon found me waiting on the corner of Mars and 17th. Having exhausted the hopping, kicking and turning thing that I sometimes engage in to entertain myself, I began to do step-ups on the stairs. Step up, step down. Step up, step down. I never really give much thought to what others might think of my behaviour, but all that changed when a passerby stopped beside me to ask "can I give you a hand?" "Do I look like I need a hand" popped into my head but how could I say that to a samaritan who assumed I was having trouble ascending the stairs? I demurred and he went on his way. "Miss fiddle twiddle pick bang." New (and returning) FOJM include Krissa, Tones, Lynn, Erich, Cecily, Andrew, Kitty, Mark, Konrad, Juan, Joe, Ruby, Chris & Angie, artboy, Kevin, Scott, David & Mandy, Greg, Bruce, and Derek. "Harm the peach" has always been my favourite anagram of Heather Champ. Davezilla takes it a few step further. Yesterday? The Cut Direct. |
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