The Scale Got WAY Too Cocky.
When Lil' Hilde was five years old, she'd ride her little tricycle around the Air Force base her family was stationed at. One day, a little girl about the same age with long blonde hair, we'll call her Ponytails, blocked Lil' Hilde's trike. When Hilde told her to let go, Ponytails shook the handlebars, and pushed Lil' Hilde to the ground.
Now, if you haven't lived through the 60s and 70s there were some general guidelines about handling bullies, and almost every family followed these. They went something like this:
Don't start the fight.
IF someone starts with you, defend yourself.
You won't get in trouble.
Even with those rules in her back pocket, Lil' Hilde tried avoiding Ponytails. She took different routes around the military base, hoping to avoid trouble. But isn't it funny how trouble will find us despite us not wanting it? And it was that way with Lil' Hilde. No matter how much she tried to steer clear of Ponytails and just have fun, somehow Ponytails found her and dumped her off the tricycle.
Until one day.
Lil' Hilde rounded a corner. Wobble-Squeak-Wobble. Teetering on her trike.
Suddenly, Ponytails appeared, and like two tiny gunslingers, they stared at each other, neither making the first move.
Lil' Hilde tried to push past Ponytails, but the trike, in desperate need of some WD-40 made it impossible to move fast enough. Before Lil' Hilde knew it, Ponytails had the handles and was tipping Lil' Hilde over like a steer getting bulldogged.
It would be years later when Lil' Hilde grew up and learned the expression, "Not today, Satan," but if she'd had the words back then, this would have been the time to use them. As she fell, she grabbed ahold of one of Ponytails' ponytails and hung on like she was on a bucking bronco. They tumbled onto the pavement and then rolled onto the grass. Ponytails yelled, "Let GO!" and Lil' Hilde, saying nothing, hung on like she was eight seconds from winning the rodeo.
Eventually, someone's mom ran outside, broke up the melee and told them both to go home. Not surprisingly, Ponytails never bothered her again. So Lil' Hilde was free to wobble-squeak-teeter-zoom freely on her tricycle without worrying about a blonde bandit terrorizing her routes. She was happy and free!
In many ways, the scale is like Ponytails. Hilde can sense it lurking in the bathroom closet when she pees. She imagines high numbers while she wonders about yesterday's salt, the weight of today's pajamas and whether she moved enough yesterday. She'd prefer to avoid this bully and not have to face it. But like Lil' Hilde, she's done being bullied.
So like Ponytails, it's time Hilde went face-to-face with this particular bully and reminded it who's holding the handlebars. And if it throws a number she doesn't like, Hilde wants to step off and keep riding in peace.
Comments