The Cricket Symphony: Surviving Childhood Without Social Skills

Every cricket had a job all throughout my childhood. Each time my mouth opened, the symphony began. People would look at me quizzically, alarmed by my nonsensical humor and lack of social understanding. One time, during Peter Pan practice rehearsal (I was Tootles, one of the lost boys), a girl complained of a mosquito bite. She reached over to scratch it as I laughed. What I wanted to say is “I am sorry you hurt your leg. That must really hurt.” But what came out was a short, tight, laugh. She looked at me with a pained expression on her face, noting out loud that I was weird. I felt bad, but I grinned at her exaggeratedly, unable to express myself properly.             Each time it was time for a photo, my face and mouth would curl up in a grotesque, over-exaggerated, distorted version of myself. I couldn’t seem to just smile. “Karen!” They would protest, “don’t smile like that! Stop playing”! And yet I couldn’t. All my face could do is continue to freeze into that same warped smile, as everyone’s smiles around me melted into frowns.  Every picture I have during that particular stage of childhood shows me, the little ugly brown duck, trying desperately to fit in with the smiling swans all around me. I’d paddle and paddle but just never matched their grace.             I survived my worrisome tendencies (and put a few crickets on unemploymen...
Source: Occupational Therapy Students (B)e(LO)n(G) - Category: Occupational Therapists Source Type: blogs