Questionable

I make no secret of the fact that I do not like bugs.  Crawling, slithering, hopping, flying, makes no difference.  I am not a bug person.  So when I was the new kid in grade school and a girl asked me, “What is that bug on your shoulder?,” I went a little ballistic and started jumping up and down, arms flailing, little girl screams escaping from a terrified mouth. I nearly knocked myself and three kids around me out while I was tearing off the green sweater I was wearing. I just knew it was a huge human munching thing with pinchers and razor sharp teeth the size of striped watermelons.  It must have been quite a sight because it has been over 45 years since that happened and both I and the girl that asked the question that day on the playground still remember her famous question and the result of it. She became a great friend but she never mentions bugs to me—ever.

How can so simple a question asked have such potential?  And a more inquisitive mind, like mine and maybe yours, might just want to take the next step to see what other questions might be lurking, waiting to be asked and what outcome may come of some of them.  For instance…

While watching a TV show, a detective show, one of the ones my other half wishes I would not watch before bed because then I cannot sleep and he says then I want to talk Something apparently most men do not want to do.  Well seems I’ve slipped a cog here- back to the questions.

Okay, while watching a detective show the detectives will always ask this question…  No wait before I get to the question think about your life.  Pretty regular I’m betting.  Work, home, play, the wonderful stuff daily life is made of.  Not any way out of the ordinary things but not dull either. So how does one get into the position to have this question asked of them? — As poor Jim lays dead as a mackerel on the floor in a puddle of goo, a family member or friend beside themselves with grief, then the detective will ask “Do you know of anyone who wanted to hurt Jim there lying on the floor in a puddle of goo, or see him, uh, dead?”  How does someone get into the position to have that asked? Do you know anyone who would want to hurt you? Or you know, see you croaked? Amazing.

Oh there are other questions in life that when you stop to think about it would catch you off guard. How about, “Do you need a Kleenex?” Always say yes to this one then use it to wipe your mouth and nose because you must have something apparently pretty disgusting stuck somewhere that you are not aware of. Any grooming question aimed at you should set off bells and whistles to you that, “Huston, there is a problem!”

Money questions abound in life too.  A friend asks “Hey, you got ten bucks I can borrow?” Inevitably that means you might as well flush the ten spot down the porcelain thrown.  Never expect loaned money to come back to you.  A good rule of thumb is that you should only loan money you can afford to lose. A sad but true fact of life that is not new.

Try asking yourself any questions that you might ask someone else—first.  Like, how tall are you? Where did you get that hair color? Of course any age or weight related questions you would not like to have asked of you so don’t ask them of someone else.

Wonderful questions abound in life too, of course.  “Can I have your daughters hand in marriage?” was a question my now husband of over 39 years had to ask my father.  I think in some families that is still a requirement before marriage.  This is a great tradition and question.  When my father was asked he was just coming into our house with an arm load of wood for the fireplace. We laugh now at the fact that there were no caveman instincts to drop all but one log that might have been used for clubbing.  But I rather imagine that my father liked my choice of life mate since he whole heartedly said yes.  Maybe a little too fast now that I think about it!

So as life ticks on the questions come more rapidly to each of us.  Where are my glasses?  Have you seem my keys? Who hid my shoes? Are we there yet?  Answers are; on my head, in my purse, nobody they are just where left them and yes we are there—at the end.

Trina Machacek lives in Eureka, Nevada.  Her book ITY BITS can be found on Kindle.  Share your thoughts and opinions with her at itybytrina@yahoo.com

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