Orange Soda, Ponds and Vegemite Glasses

In 2002, we travelled by bus from Seattle to Spokane in Washington State. We were very excited to be finally meeting with our friends Dave and Deb and their family and felt rested and ready for our 9 day stay with them. We peered out the window, looking and videotaping the scenery and were thankful for the beautiful weather. At one of our stops, we bought refreshments including an orange soda. We settled back in our seats, Nathan and Russell behind me and I had an empty space next to me.

Eventually I caught on to the fact that something was not quite right behind me and then Russell suggested Nathan come and sit next to me so I could "deal with the situation". I put my arm around him (N), leaned my head close to his and brushed away his tears as I watched the orange soda snake its way along the floor of the bus. It bumped into handbags and as the bus turned a corner, it would slide over to the other side. Try to imagine, if you can, the squelch of shoes, the sounds of orange soda sticking to people's feet as they move along the aisle of the bus. But I digress....

My heart went out to our almost ten year old son because I know exactly how it feels to spill something at the wrong moment, (is there ever a right moment?) to do something awkwardly and to feel as though the whole world is pointing at you saying, "Clumsy! You're just so clumsy!" I began to recall those times as a child when I wished I could have been swallowed up by the water, instead of just my shoe and I shared my experiences with my dear son.

I was very excited to be invited to my first birthday party! Perhaps I was in grade two or three, so I was about 7 years old, give or take. The party had been lots of fun and games, with the popular girls winning the prizes and for some reason, I found myself out in the front yard, chasing and laughing with others. There was a cute little bridge over a pond and with romantic notions in my head of being a heroine crossing over a raging river, I gleefully stepped onto the bridge.

Unfortunately, I missed a part of it and my foot fell into the water. Water soaked my foot and I squelched off the bridge and emptied the goldfish out of my good shoes. (I hope you realise by now that I do tend to embellish each tale and entry I make.) As I recall, I spent the rest of the party hoping no one had noticed my slip into the pond.

I had a friend who lived around the corner from me and we would take turns visiting each other, always with the parental admonition that we had to be home before dark. My friend's mother was out one day, so we decided to make tomato soup. My recollection of it was that she tipped the contents into the saucepan but the next day, she told me that her mother was not happy that I had splattered the soup over the walls when I had been cooking the soup.

That same friend had a birthday party that year and of course, I was invited. After all, we walked to and from school together, played with our barbies and read books together. The party was full of lots of other ten year old girls and we were laughing and happily enjoying ourselves and in my excitement, I dropped my glass of lemonade and it smashed. Not much was said and the mess was cleaned up before I even left.

Later that night, I was lying in my bed thinking about the day's events (something I still do to this day) when I remembered the broken glass. I was mortified! I felt clumsy and just knew that they were all thinking the same thing about me. I went up to the loungeroom and told mum what had happened. She calmed me down and promised to call the parent the next day. I felt better knowing it was a vegemite glass but this feeling of being clumsy and awkward stayed with me and even now, at my ripe old age of forty, I can still remember those exact feelings.

When I was growing up, I watched beautiful ballerinas floating across the stage on TV and I wished I could dance just like them. I wanted to wear a pretty dress. I wanted to be as graceful as a swan, but that was never to be.

Which is why Russell asked me to reassure Nathan. I hated (and still hate) being clumsy and taller than all of my petite friends. I am still self-conscious when I am with petite friends and do something that I label as being clumsy. Back on the bus in 2002, I took Nathan in my arms and 'apologised' for passing on my clumsy genes to him.

Russell doesn't understand about clumsiness. A few months ago, Nathan broke a glass and Russell impatiently said, "How did you break that glass?! Why were you so careless??!" Nathan looked at me and I gave Russell a withering look. Only a few days later, with that memory fresh in our minds, Russell dropped a glass (probably for the first and last time ever) and it broke. Guess what I said to him!