Yeah…um. Well, this is awkward.
So I trash-canned that theory.
I concluded that instead I was, in fact, covering the 7 Dwarves! Not the 7 Deadly sins. (whew!) Dopey, for starters...pretty much every blog, that little guy comes marching out. Grumpy? Yes - him too. Happy? Oh, well. You know…define Happy. But do it in your own blog, we kind of prefer Grumpy around here.
Sleepy for sure – he hangs out with me throughout the day, as we both occasionally nod off. Sleepy abandons me at night (not sure why?) and sends in his assistant, Insomnia. Now this character is the elusive 8th Dwarf and I have talked about him ad nauseam. I can’t find a way to break it to Sleepy. Insomnia is nothing like us.
Sneezy? Well. Stay tuned. Winter’s coming. Sneezy will no doubt be making an appearance. Then there is Doc. Clearly an afterthought, naming this Doc guy (no offense Disney – you guys are busy). I haven’t talked much about doctors on my blog (besides Dr. Oz) but I’m filing this guy away for later use. I imagine he’ll visit around the same time Sneezy does. Those two are tight.
I missed Bashful. For obvious reasons. Bashful often gets missed. I’ve known Bashful from way back to the days where we’d hide behind my Mom’s bell-bottoms. Bashful’s other nickname is “shy” but his given name is “Introvert” (you can see why he goes by nicknames) Doc, who is really hip with nicknames, calls him Bash (Bashful secretly likes the wildness it implies, so he decided to roll with it).
One of the funniest things to me is extroverted people’s conviction that they can change introverts to be like them, starting with the classic “don’t be shy.” Don't be shy! What an incredibly useful tip. Okay, cool! Wow. I thought I had to be shy!
Also fun, is to be mistaken for aloof, due to our tendency to withdraw and maybe not say every single thought out loud. Bashful thought aloof was just French for “great hair” and spent many a morning fluffing up his little faux-hawk, until I set him straight.
There’s also the “speak up!!” This is especially helpful when it is yelled at you from across the room. I don’t begrudge extroverts. They really have no idea. They don’t really notice that, at parties, you are inching closer to the door the entire evening, so that when you finally do escape into the cool night, they don’t notice your absence. (we introverts mistakenly think extroverts notice our presence to begin with).
When I was young, my mother thought it would be nice of her to relieve my Dad of the job of hair-trimming as all of us were sporting the exact same bowl-cut, brothers and sisters alike. She took us to the newest hair place in town called “Steve’s,” run by (shocker) a guy named Steve. His lack of creativity in naming his shop should have been a red-flag about his creativity in hairstyling. When his assistant/receptionist/girlfriend welcomed us, Steve pointed at me (the smallest), and said, “have him sit up there.” Yaaay!!! I got the good chair! The one that goes up and down and…wait.
Did he just say…him?
Steve finished up his 4th mullet of the day and came over to get started on my big makeover. “Should we get the smaller cape for him?” his assistant asked. What?? A cape?? Yaaay!! I get to wear a cape! Just like Wonder Woman does in…wait.
Did she just say…him?
She definitely said him. Him. HIM! They THINK I’M A BOY.
But good old Bashful (aww, he was so cute back then) nudged me. We don’t say anything, okay? Just keep ‘er zipped. If you say something, then a) they won’t hear you and b) you will turn tomato-red. That will be so embarrassing that you will go even more red until they think you might need medical attention. Let it go. So I, like so many times in my life since, did not say anything. I listened to Bashful and ignored the fact that he was possibly not the voice of authority on the topic.
Here is the result. Note: boy cut. Also, in Steve's defense, I wasn't wearing a dress or carrying a doll at the time of the "incident." Picture brown corduroys and a mustard yellow shirt instead of this colourful ensemble.
My Dad proudly pointed out that he could have done a similar job (bowl-cut) He was not wrong. We never went back to Steve’s.
A word about the red socks (I wore these with everything and as often as personal hygiene would allow). Most introverts often have another "side". A creative side, a wild side, a side that we don’t allow many people – if anyone – to see. That’s why we tend to be creatives. Writers, Artists, Inventors, anything where we can hide behind the scenes. Anything where we can express this “side” without actually having to say words. To people. In real life.
Bashful just read those last couple of words and high-tailed it under the desk. The thought. Once, the doorbell rang and I didn’t see him for a week. It’s okay now. We've disconnected the doorbell. If someone is persistent and knocks, we just run down to the basement and wait. Play a couple of rounds of Ping Pong. He’s pretty good for a little guy.