Harness and shoulders

 

I'm known for being a generally happy person. I even publish things that make me happy on Facebook regularly.

Even in this horrible year with the virus, lockdowns, worries about permits, a hospitalization, the year had a lot of positives including I'm alive and everyone I love is alive. We've two roofs over our heads and if we are hungry it is only that we are too lazy to make something.

There were many small and some large joys from the beauty of a flower to a publishing of my novel Day Care Moms.

So I'm not accused of always being a Pollyanna, here are two things from my childhood that brought anything but happiness.

One was being carried on anyone's shoulders. I know there are kids that love it. It terrified me and I developed a pretty good scream whenever anyone tried it. 

The second was worse. I was put in a harness wherever we went. I didn't know the word for humiliation at the time, but that was the emotion I felt. I remember pretending I was a horse and hoped no one else would think I was this human locked in a torture garment. I also vowed I would never, ever on penalty of being struck by lightening, ever put a child in one.

Since I'm writing this some seven decades later with no lightning burn scars it is easy to see I kept my promise.

Even writing about the harness makes me want to shake with remembered shame.

Okay, now that is written, I can go back to looking forward to a better year in 2021 and I wish all my readers a healthy and happy 2021.