Birds

When I was a child, there used to be a commercial on television for "Safety Kids."  It was a cassette tape with an accompanying activity book that was all about (you guessed it) safety.  Already displaying a flair for the dramatic at a very young age, I was desperate to own this.  (Now that I look back on it, Safety Kids would be the first in a long line of self help paraphernalia.)  I begged my mother to order it for me, and she complied.  "Safety Kids" didn't disappoint; these songs were catchier than catchy:

"Look for a grandma, or mother with children...if you are lost she's the best one to fill in...tell her you're lost and she'll know what to do; tell her your name and your guardian's name, too...try to be brave, and she'll take care of you....oooo..."

And we mustn't forget, "Sometimes you just gotta yell and scream" (an upbeat number)

And, "I'm in charge, I'm in charge, yes, I'm in charge of ME!"

Yes, I can still sing most of these songs.  I just sang them for my husband, in fact.  (Lucky him!)

I suppose I've always had what one might refer to as "trust issues," though I'm not sure why.  I can recall an incident from when I was about four or five years old.  I was standing in my front yard with some of the neighborhood kids when an older lady (a stranger) approached us and struck up a seemingly friendly conversation.

"Look at the birds, look at the beautiful birds," is all I can really remember her saying.  (There must have been some birds around at the time, and they must have been beautiful.)

Birds, huh?  I took one look at this woman, turned around and went straight through the front door to find my mother.  After all, this was your classic, text book offense: this broad was a stranger and her ass was about to get tattled on.

"Uh, Ma, there's some lady out front talking about birds."

Mommy immediately went outside to assess the situation.  I followed, feeling slightly embarrassed, slightly ashamed.  Perhaps this was just a friendly, lonely woman who was trying to be nice.  Maybe she just wanted to talk.  Maybe...she really liked birds.  Or perhaps she was a kidnapping pedophile.  At any rate, she was a stranger, and I'd heard it a hundred times: never talk to strangers.

My mother doesn't recall this incident, which confirms my theory that it must have been a false alarm.  ie: it wasn't a botched kidnapping attempt.  (Much to my parent's chagrin?)

Some time later, in first grade, I got reprimanded for telling this story during class time.  "When I was a kid, this woman started talking to us in my front yard..."  The teacher chastised me just as I was getting to the good part, whispering, "Look at the birds; look at the beautiful birds!" to several enraptured classmates, one of them being Mike S. with the blue eyes.  It was a real shame I never got to finish my story.  I'd almost been kidnapped, you see.  Right there in my front yard.

Comments

[Kathleen]

I love how you said "When I was a kid..." when you were only in first grade :)

[Sissy]

I'm the one who went in and told mommy.

[the odd broad]

You are not! That was me! I don't even think you were there.