We all have awkward moments (or days or phases), but when you're a "precocious" child, you have them in epic quantities. With Christmas barreling down upon us, I've been re-living some of my awkward Christmas moments with the fondness one usually reserves for three-legged dogs and special kids.
When I was in Grade One, true to form, my parents were late getting me to the Christmas concert (I blame my sister for being a difficult 13-month old). In her haste, and meaning to be encouraging, my mom's parting words at the stage door were, "We'll be at the back, so sing really loud, ok?" There are no words a spotlight princess loves more! Instead of getting to enjoy the whole class singing We Wish You A Merry Christmas, the audience got treated to The Karen Show. I proudly drowned everyone out, bowed with a flourish at the end, and shouted, "Could you hear me, Mommy?" I would now like to formally apologize to my entire first grade class for ruining their Christmas videos. I am really, really sorry, but when I'm famous, you can sell the video to a major television network, I won't sue you, and you'll be rich like me. Except that's probably not going to ever happen, so let's just leave it at I'm sorry. I'm kind of sorry to my parents too, but not as much since they encouraged the behaviour in the first place.
Around the same time, and for many years after, when singing Walking In A Winter Wonderland, I sang it like this:
It makes more sense to perspire than conspire by the fire, doesn't it? To conspire sounds sinister and anti-Christmasy! Since my family was so amused by my rendition, no one corrected me until I was in my early teens. Of course, it wasn't a relative that corrected me then, but a girl in choir who thought I was being funny. Fortunately it was her, a fellow oft-awkward lass, and not one of the mean girls who would have mocked me mercilessly until they found a fresh victim. I shudder to think of the deodorant jokes I would have had to endure at that tender age.
There are so many more wacky and wonderful stories I could share, but baking and hungry children await. Plus, I want to keep it light... no need to mention holiday blowouts.
Do you dare to share an awkward Christmas moment?