Gather 'round Boys and Girls, It's Storytime!

Random Fact: There’s nothing more immensely satisfying than to cut Styrofoam with scissors.

From time to time, I’d like to use this blog as a showcase for a series of short stories written by and starring moi. I figured this week was as good as any to begin the storyfest seeing as how I spent most of it lying on my new couch, doing absolutely nothing, therefore leaving me nothing new to write about. While I’d like to say I was simply celebrating the couch’s existence by spending as much time with it as possible, that’s not entirely true. Instead, I was lucky enough to catch my second cold for the month of February, and this one was a fighter. Lying lifeless on the couch had a bright side though. It gave me time to marinate with a few story ideas and become well-versed in several varieties of cough drops (I recommend Halls Natural Harvest Peach with the soothing honey center). So pop in your favorite cough drop and enjoy.

Squiggle Penn and Teller

In the 1990’s there was a squiggle pen craze. You may have missed this fad as it targeted a very specific demographic: grade school girls. Every Claire’s Boutique and KB Toys were fully stocked with these goofy pens that had no other purpose than to make your handwriting look a little sloppy. Essentially, the pens were equipped with a teeny tiny motor (or something else equally scientific-y) that caused the pens to vibrate and squiggle when turned on. If that weren’t exciting enough, the ink color was interchangeable to coordinate with perhaps your outfit or mood. Naturally, my sisters and I owned several of these ridiculous pens.

I’m sure we quickly grew bored of the pens, and this may have led Sara to make the decision she did. It began on a boring afternoon in fall or winter, a Saturday most likely.

Each Saturday began the same way. My Dad would wake my sisters and I up at what I was sure was 6am but was more likely 9am or so. He needed only to knock on one bedroom door because we all three chose to sleep stuffed into the same pink bedroom even though we lived in a house that technically had four working bedrooms. He would then proceed to yank the blankets off each of our tiny sleeping bodies and maniacally laugh as we awoke from our peaceful slumber… or so it seemed to me at the time. And then came his favorite part of the Saturday morning routine, the chore time dance. He’d enthusiastically yell, “It’s chore time! (pronounced ‘cho’ time)” and then clap his hands and do an odd version of the cabbage patch while singing the beat to MC Hammer’s hit, “Hammertime.” We would begrudgingly climb out of bed and put on our designated ‘weekend clothes,’ a sweatpant suit.

After the dancing stopped and the chores were finished, we were free to spend the day as we pleased. I like to think we were industrious children who spent playtime wisely. Occasionally we would gather all our jewelry and place it on our kitchen counter with clear Tupperware placed over it to form a faux glass case. One of us would then choose a particular piece and describe its winning attributes as the other acted surprised and impressed as though we were on the Home Shopping Network. “You’ll notice the intricate detailing on these purple plastic beads,” I might say. “Why yes, I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” Sara would reply. “Well, it’s a Claire’s Boutique original and today it can be yours for just four easy payments of $49.98 when you use our flexpay option,” I’d say. “What a bargain!” Sara would exclaim.

Sure, we were a little strange, but no one could say we weren’t creative. And in the same spirit of creativity, Sara also had a passion for Legos. She would eagerly dive into a bucket of multi-colored Legos and build to her heart’s content for hours on end. Grace and I would generally sit back as Sara tediously and laboriously constructed the Lego house we waited to play with. With two floors, kitchen cabinets, a hot tub, and a patio, these Lego houses were more lavish than my current apartment.

On this particular afternoon, shear boredom and perhaps a rebellious streak caused Sara to begin experimenting, so to speak. As I made my way down the stairs, I heard Sara call my name.

“Annie,” she beckoned somewhat secretively, “Come here!”

I found Sara in our front room kneeling in front of the fireplace. I joined her on my knees about two feet away. I can picture the green and pink flowered carpet under my legs as I leaned forward to find out what her mischievous smile was all about.

“What?” I anxiously whispered. Had she found something hidden in the fireplace? Was she about to share a secret with me? I leaned in even closer.

“Ok, watch this!” she excitedly said. What proceeded to happen has forever been seared into my memory. Sara held up one of our many squiggle pens as if to display a much practiced magic trick. She gingerly removed the ink from the pen and in its place, dropped a small yellow cylindrical Lego into the pen’s ink shaft. With an animated smile on her face and flourish of her hand, she flipped the pen’s switch, and it began to vibrate and squiggle. She then happily and willingly STUCK THE PEN UP HER NOSE and dramatically tossed her head back. When she brought her head back down and pulled the pen from out of her nose, we both simultaneously realized that the Lego was no longer in the pen’s ink shaft but instead was inside her nose. As we locked eyes, I smiled and Sara immediately screamed, “It’s stuck up my nose! IT’S STUCK UP MY NOSE!” as she darted to the kitchen to find my dad.

She continued to shout, “Dad, there’s a Lego up nose! It’s stuck up my nose!” We found my dad sweeping in the kitchen while Gracie ate lunch. He was flabbergasted, believing Sara had managed to wedge a full-sized brick Lego up her. Gracie sat at the kitchen table looking at Sara in bewilderment. I followed Sara close behind, wide eyed with a massive smile painted on my face. I secretly hoped this would require a doctor’s removal.

My dad decided not to waste much time asking how the Lego had gotten up her nose, but instead instructed her to “BLOW!” Sure enough, the yellow Lego went soaring into the Kleenex clutched in Sara’s hand. And in a moment’s notice, my dreams were dashed and our Saturday was back to normal.

Strangely, it wasn’t until now that I decided to ask Sara just how she came up with her infamous disappearing Lego illusion. She readily ‘fessed up to having stuck the squiggle pen up her nose for kicks on several other occasions. The Lego was “just an addition to an already ridiculous act. To be honest, I’m more embarrassed about the sweatpants.” Really, though?

Over the years, Sara has continued to spit in the face of logic and rebel at the notion of conventionalism. She’s an odd little nugget, but it makes for good blogging. And while I’m sure this particular blog thoroughly embarrassed her, she “nose” I love her.