Quote:
Originally Posted by Prudence
I have to amend my earlier post to add that I talk to all sorts of animate and inanimate objects. The cats, the toaster, the computer, the microwave, the sink that won't drain, the computer, the VCR, the cordless handset I can't find, the computer, the cans in the cupboard, my closet, the computer....
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I do that, too. But I'm also the crazy who talks to her food. "Ooh, apple, you look so good to me. I can't wait to eat you!"
Bad.
My mother, a few years ago, caught me on the couch having an imaginary conversation with a boy I was interested in. I even had my arm on the couch, as if reaching behind him. And I was turned toward an invisible someone. And I was talking aloud.
In my defense, I really thought I was just imagining a conversation in my head. I had no idea I was acting it out.
Actually, that's not much of a defense, is it? Sounds like, since I didn't know I was doing it, I'm even *more* crazy.
I saw my mother. Registered surprise and embarrassment. And she just smiled, shook her head, said, "Just like your father," and then asked me who I was talking to.
"Jonathan Livingston. A boy at school. We've been writing. I'm nervous about our first conversation after we're both at school again, so I was, uh, practicing."
"Practicing?"
"Yes."
"You know that's crazy, right? That you didn't even realize you were doing it?"
"Yes."
"Okay." And then she kindly walked away.