I remembered about spoon feeding the other day and I asked my dad at what age I stopped getting the "here comes the car, broom broom" treatment. He said he wasn't sure, "maybe eighteen months?"...
That's odd because I remember being spoon fed. And not the fake memories you think are real but were really just told to you once or seen in a photograph or completely made up. I remember aeroplanes, trains, bloats, and like I said, I remember. I ain't no skanky consumer.
... so what? You remember things from around three years and up? right? okay... fuck.
Even worse I have definite memories of being older. How much, I'm not sure. Four maybe? Five? Oh god!
I ensure you I could eat. I'm sure it was just an occasional tantrum thing or a plate of seafood. But I guess my need to be spoon fed at such an old age is what accounts for the small feast that I toss about with my toes under the dinner table. I leave a mess. I do. I miss my face when I feed myself and I tilt my glass too soon when I drink. Check my seat at a table; and by seat I mean the chair itself for puddles of source which dodged my body after originally missing my mouth and landed on the edge of the chair, check the floor- that's the smorgasbord and then it's probably worth finding me too and observing the way the lettuce leaves cling to my shirt or locating the damp orange patch of juice to the side of the old minestrone soup stain.
yeah yeah, I've exaggerated but it is something I struggle with, something which I suck at more than I should.
Here's another, well I already said but here's the elaboration: taking photographs.
Gimme a digital camera and you'll be awkwardly switching smiles and reversing your body tilt till next Christmas. I don't know. I press the button. So don't fucking tell me to press the button because I know. I do it. It's a problem I deal with on a regular basis with the whole need for documentation and publicisation. And I completely understand the whole push down halfway first business but something just doesn't click.
These are two pathetic failures of mine that sadly I have to keep failing at. They're parts of our everyday lives which I'm sure everyone else has mastered. I, on the other hand, have a master and in majorly sucking.
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