aojnetnet的部落格

Do you remember how moody you material nearly individual "different" in any way once you were kid?

Maybe you were shorter than your classmates. Or taller. Or had darker hair, or lighter spike. Or perhaps you wore eyeglasses.

Well...my lack of correspondence was thumbs. That's right, thumbs.

I cognise it sounds silly, but for a lifelong clip I envied the other girls who had flyspeck thumbs. And yet, it wasn't until we were complemental a kind hang over one day in elementary college that I complete fair how "different" mine were.

The mentor had segmental us into 3 groups, and respectively squadron was accepted to enhance a account committee near a winter scene.

My delivery had settled to get snowmen, and since all figure of necessity eyes, trunk and a mouth, we elective to use pollex tacks.

I had honorable short of in the early aim once a missy from my knot spoke up.

"What happened to your thumb?" she asked.

Thinking i don't know I had cut myself on a part of paper, I examined my finger conscientiously.

It looked forfeit to me.

"Nothing," I aforesaid. "Why?"

She control up her finger.

"Put yours beside mine," she educated.

So I did.

My pollex was almost partly the physical property of hers and two times as wide-screen.

"Look at this," she called to the others in the kind.

They compared our thumbs for a few seconds - and afterwards the questions started.

"Did they get splintered in a car door?"

"Did they get hit with a hammer?"

"Did mortal form them beside a rolling pin?"

As far as I knew, nil suchlike that had of all time happened.

"No," I aforesaid. "They've always been this way."

The other kids glanced stern and away amongst themselves.

"Maybe you should ask your mom," one of them suggested.

So I did.

"What do you mean, what happened to your thumbs?" my mother inquired after I had gotten off the college bus that day. "Nothing happened to them."

Which was what I had been worried she would say. Somehow, I was hoping she would have a long, extended sketch around a freak calamity that I couldn't summon up.

"Are you SURE I didn't get them wedged in the car movable barrier once I was genuinely little?" I asked.

Mom barrel her chief. "No...no...nothing similar that of all time happened." Then her sentiment narrowed. "Is that what the else kids have been saying?"

I nodded.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," she muttered.

Mom paused, lineament grooved. "Okay," she same. "What do you use your thumbs for?"

I well thought out the inquiring.

"Holding my pencil."

"And what else? How around background the table? And...tying your shoes?"

I suggestion for a instant. "And hair care my hair."

"Picking up a glass," Mom said.

"Holding a book," I aforementioned.

"Opening a door," she said.

"Drinking from a cup," I same.

"Buttoning a shirt," she same.

"Pushing in thumb tacks," I aforesaid.

"Zipping a fixing..."

We went on approaching this for respective proceedings until we some ran out of concept.

"So what's the problem?" Mom asked before i go. "Don't YOUR thumbs activity in recent times as well as all and sundry else's?"

Now that she mentioned it, they did occupation just as good.

"And haven't you ever noticed Dad's thumbs?"

I cask my leader.

"Well, you should. Yours are honourable suchlike his."

And she was correct. True, Dad's keeping were considerably large than mine, but his thumbs looked fair precisely like excavation.

After that I stopped envying all the girls who had petite, narrow, pretty thumbs, and once any person asked what had happened to mine I'd say, "Nothing. They're right similar my dad's."

My father was a farmer, and he nearly new his thumbs to do various things - helping a young mammal be born, construction hay wagons, overhauling the tractor, baling hay, location crops, fix fences. He besides previously owned his thumbs patch positioning the garden, making ice ointment from scratch, structure a alternate for me from rope from the hay mow, picking up young kittens so I could see them, lessons me how to thrust the tractor, going fishing near me, display me how to put a seat on my horse. . .

As far as I was concerned, here wasn't a entry in the planetary Dad couldn't do or fix, so if those kinds of thumbs were respectable plenty for him - they were groovy plenty for me, too.

And you know what? They unmoving are.

**********************