Monday, May 03, 2004
We're all wretched. Don't forget that.
"Brennan , c'monnn. Don't cry Brennan, pleassssseeee don't cry. Look here comes the ambulance to fix you up! Don't worry Brennan it'll be alright."
When we were kids Sean and I routinely were followed by his younger brother, Brennan who refused to call Sean by anything but his middle name, Patrick. Brennan was a lot less durable than us and as a result routinely ended up crying when our 'playing' turned to rough housing. We played with a lot of things we found on our street that looked really cool, but ultimately ended up hurting one or all of us. Occassionally we'd find lengths of piping laying about that we'd envision as being essential to some adventure we were going to embark upon during the course of the day. They usual ended up (accidentally) hitting Brennan on the side of the head and he'd fall to the ground with tears in his eyes.
Brennan's crying usually signalled the end of that day's adventures as his mother would eventually hear Brennan wailing and realize (and rightly so) that Brennan was much too young and fragile to be playing with us. We were never fond of Brennan going home because it usually meant one less character to flesh out our adventures. Additionally Brennan getting hurt meant that Sean, his older brother and consummate protector, would be punished for failing to make sure that Brennan survived the days unscathed. If two isn't fun, than one is certainly a tragedy. Our adventures were usually the three of us acting out some cartoon or disney movie that only I had seen. On some lucky days we had a fourth to fill out our games, our mailman, Clifford, would play Gunsmoke with us. Most days we were stuck with just the three of us.
I figured that the cure to Brennan's incessant crying would naturally be incessant laughing. This could be the result of reading 'Reader's Digest' at a young age, particularly the section entitled, 'Laughter The Best Medicine'. I would try to assuage Brennan by pretending to be an ambulance coming especially to repair him. He'd launch into a mixture of sniffles and giggles for a while and if I did it energetically enough he'd stop crying altogether and he wouldn't end up telling on 'Patrick' and ruining our fun for the day.
It was usually easy to undo the damage we'd caused by making Brennan laugh. I caught on very early the power words had to heal. I'm certain that this is why to this day I crack jokes during terribly uncomfortable or upsetting situations. If I couldn't laugh at what I've witnessed, I'd be miserable.
Playing ambulance (which is not even a little bit related to 'playing doctor') was such an easy way to solve a potentially damaging situation. I could undo the troubles of one person in a matter of minutes just by being funny.
You can't imagine how terrible it is to realize one day that the best intentions don't always return the results you had hoped. I know I've tried.
The start.
"Brennan , c'monnn. Don't cry Brennan, pleassssseeee don't cry. Look here comes the ambulance to fix you up! Don't worry Brennan it'll be alright."
When we were kids Sean and I routinely were followed by his younger brother, Brennan who refused to call Sean by anything but his middle name, Patrick. Brennan was a lot less durable than us and as a result routinely ended up crying when our 'playing' turned to rough housing. We played with a lot of things we found on our street that looked really cool, but ultimately ended up hurting one or all of us. Occassionally we'd find lengths of piping laying about that we'd envision as being essential to some adventure we were going to embark upon during the course of the day. They usual ended up (accidentally) hitting Brennan on the side of the head and he'd fall to the ground with tears in his eyes.
Brennan's crying usually signalled the end of that day's adventures as his mother would eventually hear Brennan wailing and realize (and rightly so) that Brennan was much too young and fragile to be playing with us. We were never fond of Brennan going home because it usually meant one less character to flesh out our adventures. Additionally Brennan getting hurt meant that Sean, his older brother and consummate protector, would be punished for failing to make sure that Brennan survived the days unscathed. If two isn't fun, than one is certainly a tragedy. Our adventures were usually the three of us acting out some cartoon or disney movie that only I had seen. On some lucky days we had a fourth to fill out our games, our mailman, Clifford, would play Gunsmoke with us. Most days we were stuck with just the three of us.
I figured that the cure to Brennan's incessant crying would naturally be incessant laughing. This could be the result of reading 'Reader's Digest' at a young age, particularly the section entitled, 'Laughter The Best Medicine'. I would try to assuage Brennan by pretending to be an ambulance coming especially to repair him. He'd launch into a mixture of sniffles and giggles for a while and if I did it energetically enough he'd stop crying altogether and he wouldn't end up telling on 'Patrick' and ruining our fun for the day.
It was usually easy to undo the damage we'd caused by making Brennan laugh. I caught on very early the power words had to heal. I'm certain that this is why to this day I crack jokes during terribly uncomfortable or upsetting situations. If I couldn't laugh at what I've witnessed, I'd be miserable.
Playing ambulance (which is not even a little bit related to 'playing doctor') was such an easy way to solve a potentially damaging situation. I could undo the troubles of one person in a matter of minutes just by being funny.
You can't imagine how terrible it is to realize one day that the best intentions don't always return the results you had hoped. I know I've tried.
The start.
# posted by Die Brucke @ 2:24 AM 
