Delightsome Follies of Childhood

Posted by Leslie | May 1, 2009 | 14 Comments

My favorite short story of all time is “That Kind of Party” by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Eleven-year-old Terrence, infatuated with neighborhood beauty Dolly Bartlett, is driven by the headiness of young love to, by whatever means necessary, stage a party in which to play kissing games. He and his sidekick Joe must find a way to rid the party of the chaperones to lay a clear path for their scandalous games. They forge telegrams, eat raw eggs, and even upend the wheelchair of poor Carpenter Moore, who attempts to expose their base desire to the neighborhood, all in the vain pursuit of an afternoon of stolen kisses. Fitzgerald closes the story with the following line:

“In one day he had committed forgery and insolence, and had assaulted both the crippled and the blind. His punishment was obviously to be in this life. But for the moment it didn’t seem important- anything might happen in one blessed hour.”

I couldn’t help but think of that story when I read Lori Nawyn’s delightful essay “Donny Osmond and Pudding” in the Fall/Winter issue of Segullah. She captures that spirited essence of youth. That realm of childhood consumed with impetuousness, power, and desire. As a teacher of child development, stories like this illustrate so classically Piaget’s stages of cognitive development, moving from ego-centric and impulsive decision making, toward abstract and consequence weighted ones. Still, there is something sublime in the glimpses of youth where the intensity of the moment reigns triumphant over all rational sensibilities and consequences. I love how she, like Terrence, stumbles and trips in her youthful morality, assembling lies and cover-ups for the sake of some all-consuming need. So grab your teen beat, your dad’s flannel shirt, some snack pack puddings, and all your pride and go read her essay.

So truth or dare? Do tell about your impetuous childhood escapades. What foolish things did you do? What needs and desires overwhelmed any sense of consequence- was it love, power, or pride? What drove you to lie, cheat, steal? What things from your childhood do you look back on with laughter or shame? Share some of your childhood follies and escapades.

Comments

14 Responses to “Delightsome Follies of Childhood”

Melissa
May 1st, 2009 @ 9:13 am

First, this post made me think that I need to review Piaget’s stages. I have one child who consistently makes entirely ego-centric decisions and I wonder when he will start thinking about someone other than himself. It’s good to know that this is a normal stage (yes?) and he will likely grow out of it. Phew.

As for my own escapades, I tried to sell my younger brother when our next brother was born, pitching to our neighbors that we no longer needed this baby because we had a new one. One kind neighbor bought him for a quarter and then brought him home. I don’t remember if I got to keep the quarter.

The Donny Osmond article was fun–such a great example of how unintended consequences can spiral out of control.
Shelah
May 1st, 2009 @ 9:29 am

My brother broke his leg when he was 2 and I was 6. For the six weeks that he was in a cast (and got lots of attention) I tried everything I could to break my own leg. I threw myself off the tops of bookshelves, jumped down a whole flight of stairs and a whole bunch of other stupid stuff. But I was bullet proof. No broken leg, and therefore no love, for me.

I also insisted that my first grade class call me Laura (as in Ingalls) for my entire first grade year. That was social suicide with much greater lasting implications than a broken leg would have had.
Melissa M.
May 1st, 2009 @ 10:36 am

I don’t have any interesting youthful escapades to share (none come to mind, anyway–I must have been a boring child. My brother and sister, on the other hand, once set the golf course across the street on fire, but I wasn’t even there–I was probably doing my homework or something else responsible), but I do have an amusing tale about Donny Osmond. During the height of the Donny Osmond craze, we lived in Australia, and I was a huge fan. In 1975 (I think) the Osmonds came to Australia on tour and my father took my sisters and me to their concert in Sydney. I was 14. We were fortunate enough to be sitting close to the stage, so we got to see them up close, and it was absolutely the most thrilling thing that had ever happened to me. After the concert, we were lingering in the concert hall and a janitor came up to my little sister and asked her if she’d like Donny Osmond’s hat. Donny had flung his denim cap into the audience during the concert but somehow it ended up on the floor, and the janitor found it as he was cleaning up (yes, we must have been lingering for a long time). Anyway, we couldn’t believe our good fortune and eagerly took it home. For months, my sisters and I took turns sleeping with it under our pillow. After the concert, I wrote a long journal entry, describing every song and dance number, concluding with, “I can’t stop thinking about Donny. I think I’m in love with him.” But the funny thing about this story is that now I live in the same ward as Donny Osmond; my daughter plays with his son, and my husband reports his home teaching to Donny every month. Small world!!! I did tell Donny the hat story, but I didn’t tell him about my journal entry.
I don’t know what happened to that hat, but I wish I still had it, because I’m pretty sure I could fetch some big bucks for it on EBay.
Leslie
May 1st, 2009 @ 11:06 am

hey melissa- my sister wanted to trade me for a big brother- she would’ve given me away for free.

shelah- I mean laura- love it- my sister went through literature inspired personal phases- she used to talk with fake accents alot. I agree the leg would’ve been better.

melissa- love your donny story-I want a picture of you in the hat.

I was pretty tame myself. While I dreamed of such schemes i had too much of an over developed sense of rule abidiness and morality to ever follow through. I did have imaginary friends named after foods- tutti-fruti and gouda- I picked all the neighbors newly planted flowers once, and indignantly wrote a note to pur maid in Turkey to tell her to stop stealing our paper napkins.
wendy
May 1st, 2009 @ 12:01 pm

I was pretty tame, too. There are a few one-time incidents that ended in being grounded–a lie here, stolen change from dad’s dresser, a threat to “kick someone’s butt” (even though I didn’t do it). One thing that just came to mind was when I spent a week during the summer at my best friend’s house in antoher town. We often slept outside, and in the mornings, we would climb to the top of the fence in our nightgowns, sit on the fence posts and wave at passers-by. We were 12-13 or so when we were doing that . . . a little inappropriate!!
Justine
May 1st, 2009 @ 12:39 pm

I remember very well how egocentric I was. I remember in the second grade, a child fell off the top of a slide and a crowd formed around him. I barged my way in to the center, where the boy was laying on the ground crying. I was saying something like, “Let me through! I’m trained to deal with this!” Everyone let me through, and I remember kneeling at his side ‘assessing’ his injuries. Then a teacher showed up and completely usurped my powers.

I was kind of obnoxious like that all through school (I may still be, hard to tell…)
Liz C
May 1st, 2009 @ 2:15 pm

After a few nights of me telling French Revolution stories to my brothers at bedtime, I hosted a Guillotine Afternoon for the whole neighborhood. The brother just younger than me played the ax-man, and we decapitated nearly every Barbie doll in the neighborhood for their heinous crimes against the State.

In high school, a group of us once fit 14 kids into a Volkswagon Beetle, and drove from the church to the school (about five miles) blasting Primary songs out the windows. We were pulled over, and the deputy made us get out, then get back in again to see how we’d done it. Then get back out again, so most of us could walk the final few blocks to school.

Ah, life in a very small town!
Lori
May 1st, 2009 @ 3:26 pm

A few years ago my friend, Lyn, was in New York and met Donny during lunch at Junior’s. After she told him about my story (she was among the group of friends I first shared it with) he signed a napkin for her to give to me, “Lori, thanks for inviting me to your party.”

I wish I could say my childhood escapades ended in sixth grade…I never did decapitate a Barbie, I never had brothers and sisters to sell or I may have tried that.
Tiffany W.
May 1st, 2009 @ 4:46 pm

I don’t really have any good childhood stories. I did cut school a time or two in High school, once to go makeout with my non-member boyfriend. Felt so guilty about it that I never did it again, the cutting school part that is. And I did break up with the non-member boyfriend. So I guess the making out did end.

I remember fitting an insane amount of people in a very small hatchback after a musical rehearsal. We never got pulled over, but we did enjoy the adventure. I wasn’t the driver, just one of the squished kids.
Emily M.
May 1st, 2009 @ 10:56 pm

Lori, I loved your essay–hilarious and poignant at the same time.

In seventh grade I got into a shampoo fight (the girl’s mother owned a beauty parlor and had tons of it lying around her basement. Now that I think of it, it was probably expensive stuff, too.). And broke my cheekbone. Not so fun…
Melonie
May 2nd, 2009 @ 12:10 am

My sister and I had baby powder fights in the house. They weren’t very fun to clean up.
Once I babysat and had to bathe the Bishop’s kids. There were a lot of them. I got them out one by one in towels and sent them to their rooms to get in their pajamas while I dealt with the next child. When I finally came out of the bathroom they were all standing in their three front windows naked, waving and dancing at all the cars that went by. You know what I did? Nothing. I just let them do it for a few minutes. It kind of felt like rebellion against the Bishop and it felt good to let them embarrass themselves. Hmm, probably wasn’t the best babysitter.
Zina
May 2nd, 2009 @ 12:19 am

Such funny stories! I love the guillotine one. (And all the rest.)

My childhood foible was stealing treats and candy from my parents and siblings and very rarely getting caught because I was so sneaky. (The dark side of this is I think this was my way of trying to address unmet emotional needs.) My siblings never knew how I made my Halloween and Easter candy last so long because they didn’t figure out I was eating theirs and saving mine. In my early teens I decided to formally repent of this vice of mine, and it was a good lesson in how that works — and a great relief to come clean.

One of my favorite childhood memories is the summer we (all the neighborhood kids) figured out that as long as our parents didn’t see or hear us they wouldn’t make us go to bed, so we’d stay up and play night games and if anyone needed to go in the house for any reason (such as to use the bathroom,) we’d make them swear to take a back entrance and walk quietly so as not to give us away.
Leslie
May 2nd, 2009 @ 11:29 am

Okay the barbie guillotine is a classic-

justine i will call on you in a time of emergentcy- at least you have the lines down

Zina I rememeebr taking a little bag of M&Ms as a child and flushing the wrapper dwon the toilet so tit would never be found- oh for chocolate.

baby powder- shampoo fights- I can admit to popcorn and shaving cream fights- ahh youth

and fitting too many people in the car- classic- seatbelts -those didn’t seem as important as sitting on someone’s lap
Lori
May 6th, 2009 @ 1:24 pm

Thanks, Emily. Broken cheekbone–ouch!