Heather’s comment reminded me of the M & M incident.
High school cool is of course every high school student’s goal. And those who can’t pull off that amazing feat have to resort to becoming brainiacs, bandphiles, sport-stars, and clowns. Clowns, not as in creepy, white-faced, huge-lipped, large-footed clowns, though some of us possessed those qualities, but clowns, as in look-at-me and laugh, please.
Surprisingly, some of the most talented, sporty, smart and beautiful people in my high school landed in the clown circle. Maybe it was the quality of city water at some point during the formative years.
In my circle of goofballs, we made our own fun. I’m sure the adults who encountered our fun wanted to run the other way. But that’s okay. We didn’t just march to the beat of a different drum, we had an entire drum line. Some day I’ll have to share some other adventures, but not today. Today I must share the M&M incident in all its melt-in-your- ___________ glory.
Shelly happened to be the stereotypical picture of a Midwest high school cheerleader, blonde, bubbly and adorable. She also ran with the weirdoes.
We were cool upper classmen and the current “owners of the hall,” the year of the incident.
Our high school sported a ramp that connected two buildings. Upper classmen lined the windowed wall and hung out each morning before the tardy bell rang. Most of my class members didn’t need to be cruel to the scurrying young’uns, our presence was enough.
Power flooded our already inflated sense of immortality and daring-do. I think this was Shelly’s motivation, as well as going for the laugh. Unless it was a moment of insanity, which is highly possible, those teen hormones can be ugly.
I wasn’t there during the placement of the green M&M. I did help with the rescue/clean-up. Shelly was led up the ramp by a small circle of giggling girls. The circle parted as they reached the top. There stood Shelly, in all her perkiness, her beauty marred only by the green M&M peeking out from the bottom of her nose.
I had to ask. “How’d that get in there, Shelly?”
The giggling circle filled me in. Bottom line – it seemed like a good idea at the time. And now it was stuck tight. She’d nearly blown her brains out attempting to remove it.
By the time they’d reached the ramp, the M&M had softened. Shelly gave one last heroic blow, broke the M&M and ran to the bathroom with chocolate dribbling down her face.
Moral of that story – if you’re going to stick something up your nose, make sure it will eventually melt.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.