Have you ever heard of a scientific study that used a lot of grant money to figure out something we all knew already? Have you heard of the study that proved the human brain is still "Under Construction" in the teenage years? As a mother of three teen-aged boys, I could have taken a portion of that grant money, gave them the answer they were looking for, and saved them a lot of time and energy. But *I* never had teenage brain. *I* was mature and focused as a teen. At least that's the way I remembered it until just a few days ago...
A memory from my teenage years popped into my mind. The memory was of something I did that was so outrageous and so uncharacteristic of who I am today. It also was so utterly forgotten until just recently that I wondered if it really happened at all. My family--people that I still interact with regularly--would remember this event. How has no one brought it up to tease me or laugh about it? Surely I dreamed it up. Nope. I asked my aunt Nellie, and we laughed and laughed until we couldn't breathe over the strange events.
It was autumn of my 15th or 16th year. We were members of a Catholic church and if you don't know about Catholic church bazaars you are really missing out. Every Catholic church that I know of holds a bazaar as an annual fundraiser. It's a festival of sorts. There are games, food, maybe an auction, bingo, or anything else that will bring in money. They're a lot of fun and our church just happened to hold their bazaar in the fall, right around Halloween as a matter of fact. So that year the youth group decided to dress up in costumes for the bazaar.
My aunt, Nellie, took us out to get our costumes. Being the last minute kind of people that we are, this happened to be the day of the festival. I walked up and down the aisles looking and looking and finally found THE costume. Nellie tried to tell me it was inappropriate and desperately tried to draw my attention to another costume but I wouldn't budge, I liked THIS one. Nellie told me my mother would never let me wear the outfit and if this was the only one I settled on then I wouldn't have anything to wear that night. I insisted my mom would see that the costume was perfectly fine and would too let me wear it. Either way I was willing to take the chance. I went home with my prized costume.
My mother had a fit. There was no way she was going to let me out of the house in it. I honestly don't remember ever being this stubborn or why I was in love with the outfit but I stood my ground and fought hard for the stupid thing. My mom had me try it on hoping to make a point of how unsuitable it really was. For me it was just one step closer to victory. I came out of my room and paraded around the house for everyone to see how wonderful it was. My mother was't impressed. We fought some more and finally in exasperation she pulled my grandfather--who had been silent up to now--into the argument.
"What do you think?" My mom said. "Would YOU let her out of the house like that?"
"Psht. It's doesn't show any more than those blue jeans they wear." My grandpa huffed.
And with that, the argument was won. And that's how I managed to get out of the house and attend a church function wearing black high heels and a Playboy Bunny costume.
I wonder if the people at that church still talk about that bazaar. I wonder if they still allow the youth group to wear costumes. I wonder what the heck I was thinking!!! Laughing over the memory with my sister, she said, "We are the same kind of people we judge!"
Why did that memory surface after all this time? I'm convinced it has something to do with mid-life brain--my fully developed (and slightly over-the-hill) adult brain trying to make sense of the reeling and spinning of the teen brains that live in my house. It says, "Oh yes I remember being young and stupid. Remember how mortified mom was over the fishnet stockings we wore to the church bazaar? Ahhh, good times."
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