What's not normal is what my son has. There is no name for his
condition. He also stops in the middle of a sentence, which most
often is not an original thought. He then forgets the rest of it and
makes something up -- also not an original thought. If I give him
a choice of two things, he's pretty flexible: "Whatever floats your
... cup of tea."
If I catch him doing something out of character, he shrugs and
says, "When in Rome ... let them eat cake."
Wait a minute. They ate cake -- or didn't, as the case may be --
in France, not Rome. However, if I brought this fact to his
attention, he would say, "If you don't have anything nice to say,
don't lead a horse to water."
"Um ... OK, then."
Sometimes, he goes into a "stick phase" and doesn't come out of
it for weeks. I would hear such nonsense as:
"A bird in the hand is more than you can shake a stick at.
Or, "Do unto others, and carry a big stick."
Or, "People who live in glass houses shouldn't carry big sticks."
Or, the worst one, "The way to a man's heart is ..." I'd better
leave that one to your imagination.
I was never so glad as when the stick phase was over. It's one
thing for someone to butcher clichés all day, and another to butcher
clichés by themes ... for weeks!
The "chicken" theme was only a few days. There isn't much you can
do with a chicken, but it still drove me to the brink.
"Absence makes your chickens hatch."
"Two wrongs don't make a chicken."
He branched out quickly to other barnyard animals. I love this
young man in spite of his peculiarities. I told him that he was
turning into a handsome young man. He replied, "Beauty is in the eye
of a bull in a china shop."
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Wait. I think that makes me a bull ... or a china shop ... not
sure. Obviously, I was between a rock and a molehill.
It became maddening when I needed to have a serious conversation
with him about his grades.
"One bad apple doesn't fall far from the tree," he said.
I was insulted ... I think. Again, I wasn't sure, so I ignored
it.
"Honey, you have to work harder if you intend to get into a
decent college."
"All work and no play is the mother of invention," he answered
blithely.
I ran that through my sloppy drive and decided he was right!
"Exactly!" I said, pleased.
"What? Huh?" He seemed confused. "Did I just make sense?"
"Yes, you did, but you don't get credit for it if you didn't know
you were making sense."
"Oh ... good ... because a penny saved gathers no moss."
"Oh, for Pete's sake!"
My husband has the affliction, too, but only selectively. He was
watching a baseball game and was disgusted with the pitcher. I
happened to walk into the room at the same time as he said, "He
couldn't hit the broad side of a ..." and forgot what he was going
to say. Looking me straight in the eye, he finished, "... broad."
I frowned and said, "This might be a good time to make your
chickens hatch."
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated
columnist, author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more info.
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