Dear Dad,
I remember that I was a weird kid (I think I've already said that), and I still am...
I would get creative with nature and make chains out of dandelion stems and hang them along the fences at recess in elementary school. I had wanted to go all the way around the schoolyard with it, but other kids (I don't know who) tore it apart and it died anyways..
Then this other time, my friend and I made tiny stick people (literally a tiny, single stick) and had made a house area for them by a tree and in the dirt in the schoolyard (this is also during my elementary years) with pebbles, leafs, and acorn tops. My 'person' had a scrap of green material tied around 'her' with thread and I'd stick maple keys under the thread and pretend they were wings. I'd use an acorn top as her hat.
Another time, I tried a fort out of leafs. I figured 'if you can make a fort out snow, why not leafs? They won't stick the same or be as tall, but you can at least get the outline of it'. That lasted as a one-time thing since it wasn't as fun with leafs as snow is..
Another stick person I remember having made was a long time ago, when I was in the single-digits. I was in our car with you and Mom and I'd found a popsicle-stick, a dryer sheet, and an elastic band on the floor of the car. I stuck the dryer on the popsicle-stick with the elastic band and pretended that it was a cape; that the junk I'd put together was a superhero. We then picked up my Aunt and she joined me in the backseats. I can't completely remember her reaction to my popsicle-stick superhero, but I think she found it amusing- I know she had laughed- at how I was 'playing with garbage'. I think she thought it was weird..and I can't blame her for thinking that...
Ah, when I was in elementary, I'd had a younger boy ask me why I was so creative with nature. I think he asked that because he'd seen my dandelion chain and the 'house' for my stick person I'd made with my friend. I only shrugged and quietly replied that I didn't know; I just was.
Maybe he thought I had no toys to play with, so I had to improvise? Or maybe he just admired my weirdness? Probably not... Maybe he wanted to understand it, then (my weirdness, that is..)?
YOU ARE READING
Dear Dad,
General FictionA collection of letters that a daughter wrote to her father of everything that she wishes she could say to him. She will, eventually... but until then? She'll keep writing until she works up the courage to tell him. [The chapters for this story are...
