WHY CAN'T YOU BE NORMAL?

"WHY CAN'T YOU BE NORMAL?!"

With much thought and research I have compiled every conversation I have ever had into a single question that I have yet to answer correctly;"Why can't you be normal?!" I can't recall the first time I was questioned in such manner, but by my tenth birthday it was a daily occurrence. I'm not sure exactly what it was about me that raised such questions. I felt normal. Certainly I acted normal by doing things that all normal kids do! For instance, having rock fights, using dumpsters as the perfect "Man hunt" hiding spot, throwing mud bombs, riding bikes off of roof tops, disassembling household items, etc. etc. Certainly these activities are normal for an energetic, young boy.

One time I came home from a long hard day of making paper airplanes, spit wads, the occasional gray hair on a teachers head and other general types of havoc. My mother met me at the door with her usual scrutinizing stare. She stood with the backs of her hands on her hips and her posture made a "What have you been up to now?" type of statement. I stood, arms dangling, staring up at her.
" Well?" she said.
" Well what?" I replied nonchalantly.
" Well, what note do I have to sign today?"
" No note. Just another day."
" Ok, but you better not be up to trouble. Dinner will be ready in a little bit. Oh and by the way, Nana and Poppy stopped by today. They left something for you."
" What is it? What is it? I asked excitedly.
Mom pointed toward the table. I turned and saw a brand new, shiny, leather football.

Normally, my friends Danny and Chris and I were not interested in sports. Sports always had rules and those were things we avoided like the plague.

" That was very thoughtful of them to get you that football. Now take it outside and play like a normal kid." I gave it a sort of confused look and went out on the front porch. Just then, Danny and Chris came riding down the sidewalk.
" Hey guys!" I said. "Check out what my grand parents gave me." I tossed the football to Danny.
" Hey this is cool. Let's go have a catch in the back yard." Danny said.
Chris had a perplexed look on his face. " What is it?" He asked.
" It's a football stupid!" Danny snapped.
" Oh yeah! I know how to do that." Chris replied.

Danny and Chris were quite the odd couple. Danny was obviously the brains of the two and Chris, loyal, but perpetually confused.

They left their bikes in the front lawn and the three of us embarked on our mission to play like "Normal" kids. Danny knew some about football. He had spent many years of his life being chased home by a group of players from the Pop Warner jr. team. Somehow in the process he learned the basic principle of football, but never actually got the hang of throwing one. He could get the ball in your general direction, but his spiral appeared more like a horizontally propelled, wobbly watermelon. Chris on the other hand could not hit the broad side of the Himalayas. His form while throwing made his lanky limbs flail in every direction. When Chris threw a ball, it was a total body effort.

If only I had taken into consideration Chris's tendancies toward unintentional destruction of property, I would have never brought the ball outside. We had walked down the alley between our house and the neighbors and into the back yard. We were just a couple throws along when I threw the ball to Chris. He wound his right arm back, his left hand covering the ball so it didn't fall from his grip. His left leg took off like a loose water hose and he stood for a second, wobbling on his right leg. And then his whole body shot forward and his arm released the ball. I seemed to watch in slow motion when the ball flew over my head and towards the house. I turned and saw the ball heading straight for the air vent on the back of the house that opened up into a crawl space above the kitchen. Unfortunately, made of fiberglass, the vent splintered with the impact and the ball vanished into the black depths of the crawl space.

In seconds, we all dispersed for fear that the sound may have been heard. I hid behind the neighbors tomato plants and Danny and Chris bolted into the alley. Intently, I watched the back door for any signs of Mom and sure enough, she appeared at the door. I cringed for fear of certain doom.
" Tommy!!" she yelled. Sheepishly I stood from behind the foliage.
" Mom it wasn't---"
" Don't argue, it's time for supper."
She then turned and went back into the house.
" I don't believe it!" I whispered to myself.
Danny and Chris came running over to me.
" She didn't hear it guys! I think we're in the clear. We just need to get that ball out of there so if the hole is ever spotted, there won't be evidence."
"Yeah, maybe they'll think it was a bird or somethin'!" Chris muttered.
" Be quiet!" Danny said turning to Chris.
" Ok!" I said. " I'd better go inside before she thinks something's up. You guys come up with a plan to get that ball."

After washing my hands, I went to the kitchen table and sat down. I ate as fast as I could. I was halfway through the meat loaf when all of a sudden...
THUD!!
" What was that?" Dad asked.
" What was what?" I said nervously. "I didn't hear anything up there!"
" What do mean 'up there'." Dad retorted. " What are you up to?"

I didn't even have a chance to respond when a lanky body, covered in white dust came plummeting bottom first into the meatloaf. Mom screamed and Dad jumped up from the table. I sat, mouth open, staring at none other than Chris, sprawled on our kitchen table, when I heard a low toned "Oops" from up above. I looked and there was Danny's dust covered face peering through a Chris shaped hole in the ceiling.
" It's a good thing I like meatloaf." Chris moaned.

So much for our attempt at playing like "normal" kids. Even after the ceiling was fixed the football confiscated and the meatloaf stains removed from Chris's pants, we still had many more years to come in which various other abnormalities occurred that helped uphold our reputation. We tried to be normal kids. We really did! I think it worked too. To this day, I do everything that normal people do. Uhh, except for playing football and eating meatloaf.