Monday 26 November 2012

Old sayings are a load of old bollocks.

Time to question the wisdom of our forebears with a bit of 21st Century common sense. 
Sometimes I think a few of those old sayings need a bit of a revamp.  And some of them I wonder if they were ever true at all.  As I contemplate my navel I can think of several in circulation which could be considered a complete load.

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.

Bollocks to that.  I've been hurt by words heaps of times.  Words can hurt for years.  They are one serious weapon.  And everyone knows it.  If you've got skin thick enough that words don't hurt you, you are lucky indeed.  Me, I'd take the sticks and stones any day.  Although I reckon they'd hurt you too.

Sarah came home from school the other day miserable because a kid at school had said something nasty to her.  She said "Mum, that old saying isn't true is it, because words do hurt, I hurt now".  She's so right.  And I hurt right along with her, in that spot in the middle of your chest that always seems to ache when they tell you something sad.  It's a helpless ache.

Rolling stones gather no moss.

Now I'm not a huge traveller these days, but in my time, I got about.  We rolled, Mike and I, stonelike, over a decent part of the world.  And we gathered moss.  If by moss you mean lifelong friendships.  Several of the people we met while travelling were in our bridal party.  One is godparent to our eldest.  I can think of three people we met overseas who still live in different states now, who we have made the effort to catch up with in the past few months or will be seeing in the next few.  Not to mention the ones we keep in touch with on Facebook. And the ones who live around the corner.  And I know we are not alone in this.  So what's with the rolling stone palaver?

When the kids get older, much as it will wrench my heart into tiny ragged pieces, I will encourage them to travel overseas, to meet people from other countries, or people from their country who they wouldn't have met, if they didn't share a love of travel.  Which they will have to have, surely, being our children? They can gather some moss of their own.

Slow and steady wins the race.

Yeah right.  Not in this world.  If I went slow and steady I'd never do anything.  The kids go slow and steady in the mornings and if they went much slower we'd be turning up to school at 9:30.

The Mall: no way, it's get in, and get out, do what's on your list and get the pluck out of there.  Slow and steady would just mean I'd get stuck in a mire of indecision or buy a pair of shoes I had no idea I needed.  In this case, it's fast and furious all the way.  Race won, job done.

The grocery shopping:  Seriously, who wants to spend a minute more in the supermarket than is absolutely necessary?  Especially when you have at least one, maybe two and occasionally three preschoolers with you.  No stopping or hesitating here.  Grab trolley, stow preschoolers inside and push 90kg around the aisles, flinging random objects in.  The kids step all over the watermelon and I never stop for more than 3 seconds.

Maybe in some cases, taking it easy is a good thing.  In fact, anything requiring neat presentation or artistic talent probably needs a bit of slowness.  Anyone who has ever read my handwriting knows I do not inhabit this world.

One man's (or person's/family's) trash is another's treasure.  

Yeah, I know, we all love household cleanup time.  We love to look at the stuff other people have chucked out as we drive the local streets and we love stickybeaking at the neighbours reject pile.  We love the cleansing act of chucking out our stuff and going through our toys/garages/husbands stuff looking for things which are no longer needed.  Well, some of us do.  Others, not so much.

Many are the items I have put onto the verge, only to find them mysteriously appear back in the house only hours later.  Occasionally, if I'm feeling persistent, this can turn into a weird stealth mind game, as the 'keeper' hides their treasure in several sneaky spots to stop the 'thrower' from having their way.

I always win.  *evil laugh*

My point: every item I have EVER picked up from someone else's verge has been in my household clean up 6 months later.  Why?  Because it was junk in the first place and it still is.  It is not treasure, it is JUNK.  'nuff said.

And one that's true, proven time and time again?  Say nothing, act casual.  Works every time.  Total winner.