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hwango932 words. Warnings for language and fanciful treatment of childhood trauma.
Once upon a time there was a young couple who for many years had the misfortune of being almost entirely happy. Gilbert and Erica were adorable, well-adjusted children, and then outgoing and popular young adults, and eventually successful college graduates with good jobs. They met, fell in love, got married, and together believed with all of their hearts that life was good and easy and wonderful.
Then, just a few years after they decided to have a child together, they first started to notice that the world was an awful place filled with misery, cruelty, and despair, and that all their lives they been sheltered from this fact and been the unwitting beneficiaries of astonishing good fortune.
"What have we done?!" cried Gilbert.
"What were we thinking, bringing a child into this terrible world?" cried Erica.
"How will she survive? There's no way she'll be as lucky as we were!" Gilbert said.
"We must prepare her, somehow!" Erica said.
And so they looked into ways they might be able to prepare their daughter to deal with the world, and give her whatever advantages they could. Alas, they had already blundered horribly by naming her Kniphofia, and for some reason didn't think to get it changed.
Erica and Gilbert did research on the best preschool in which to enroll Kniphofia. Gilbert had read in a parenting magazine that if their child didn't go to the right preschool she would almost certainly end up a cannibal, or a zombie, or even a friendless unemployed shut-in who spent all of her time on the internet watching cat videos. In the end, the preschool they chose seemed adequate enough. Kniphofia didn't show any interest in biting anyone, at least.
As Kniphofia grew older, Erica and Gilbert continued to panic that she wasn't facing enough adversity. Adversity, it seemed, equipped people with the resilience needed to succeed in the world. They consulted an expert on the incredibly diverse varitieties of adversity available.
"We don't want to torment our daughter," Erica explained.
"We just want to make sure that she endured enough hardship in her early years to be able to withstand the harsh, unflinching specter of misery that is life in our modern world," said Gilbert.
"Well," said the expert, "you could start by getting a divorce."
"What?!" Gilbert and Erica cried in unison. "But we love each other very much!" said Gilbert.
"What does that have to do with anything?" said the expert. "Marriages between people who love each other crumble all the time. Besides, this isn't about you, this is about your daughter."
"But we want to stay together!" said Erica.
"Well, that's very selfish of you. Many children of divorced parents feel that they are in some way responsible for their parents splitting up, and in this case it would even be true!"
Gilbert and Erica sought the advice of a different expert.
"Have you considered cancer?" said the next expert.
"...for who?" asked Gilbert with a certain amount of dread.
"Ideally your daughter, but if you can't stomach that, then I suppose one of you, as long as you don't mind it being terminal. Preferably when she's in high school and she's old enough to be really affected by your prolonged, agonizing death while already trying to deal with a lot of other complex emotional issues."
The next expert suggested that they arrange for their daughter to wander into some kind of magical land where she could fight some sort of evil army.
"I am beginning to question the wisdom of our approach," Erica said to Gilbert, who nodded in agreement.
"Let's try one more, though," Gilbert said. "We already have the appointment set up." Erica agreed.
The last expert suggested a plan of epic scope. Gilbert and Erica would encourage young Kniphofia to pursue her dreams, and find her own interests. Rather than try to get her to fit in, they could let her wander blindly down a path that would leave her perpetually the outsider. She would find it difficult to relate to other children, and by the time she was in middle school she would officially be the school freak that no one would dare to be friends with. Then, and only then, would Gilbert and Erica suddenly try to get her to make friends and fit in. Ultimately, they would send her on the class trip that would have her spending a week away from home at some kind of horrible camp in the middle of nowhere, where supposedly she would somehow make friends with the same kids she saw every day back home who already hated her. There, these children would exclude her from every remotely fun activity, and the people running the camp would force her to do stupid things that did not interest her in the slightest. The children would tease her and bully her as always, but they would be made bold by their distance from the school and the fact that the only authority figures who were present would no longer be relevant in a few days, and they would do worse - maybe steal her clothes while she was in the shower, or put unspeakable things in her bed. The expert went on and on, describing the most miserable, traumatizing week Kniphofia could have without someone actually getting arrested.
Gilbert and Erica were appalled. But they were out of ideas, and it certainly sounded like the sort of thing that would equip their daughter with the emotional armor she would eventually need. She would learn that being different can be awful, that children have a limitless capacity for cruelty, and that adults were useless.
And so they agreed.
At least, I like to think it was something like that. It would mean that, deep down, my parents meant well. Because the alternative is that they were fucking idiots.
Once upon a time there was a young couple who for many years had the misfortune of being almost entirely happy. Gilbert and Erica were adorable, well-adjusted children, and then outgoing and popular young adults, and eventually successful college graduates with good jobs. They met, fell in love, got married, and together believed with all of their hearts that life was good and easy and wonderful.
Then, just a few years after they decided to have a child together, they first started to notice that the world was an awful place filled with misery, cruelty, and despair, and that all their lives they been sheltered from this fact and been the unwitting beneficiaries of astonishing good fortune.
"What have we done?!" cried Gilbert.
"What were we thinking, bringing a child into this terrible world?" cried Erica.
"How will she survive? There's no way she'll be as lucky as we were!" Gilbert said.
"We must prepare her, somehow!" Erica said.
And so they looked into ways they might be able to prepare their daughter to deal with the world, and give her whatever advantages they could. Alas, they had already blundered horribly by naming her Kniphofia, and for some reason didn't think to get it changed.
Erica and Gilbert did research on the best preschool in which to enroll Kniphofia. Gilbert had read in a parenting magazine that if their child didn't go to the right preschool she would almost certainly end up a cannibal, or a zombie, or even a friendless unemployed shut-in who spent all of her time on the internet watching cat videos. In the end, the preschool they chose seemed adequate enough. Kniphofia didn't show any interest in biting anyone, at least.
As Kniphofia grew older, Erica and Gilbert continued to panic that she wasn't facing enough adversity. Adversity, it seemed, equipped people with the resilience needed to succeed in the world. They consulted an expert on the incredibly diverse varitieties of adversity available.
"We don't want to torment our daughter," Erica explained.
"We just want to make sure that she endured enough hardship in her early years to be able to withstand the harsh, unflinching specter of misery that is life in our modern world," said Gilbert.
"Well," said the expert, "you could start by getting a divorce."
"What?!" Gilbert and Erica cried in unison. "But we love each other very much!" said Gilbert.
"What does that have to do with anything?" said the expert. "Marriages between people who love each other crumble all the time. Besides, this isn't about you, this is about your daughter."
"But we want to stay together!" said Erica.
"Well, that's very selfish of you. Many children of divorced parents feel that they are in some way responsible for their parents splitting up, and in this case it would even be true!"
Gilbert and Erica sought the advice of a different expert.
"Have you considered cancer?" said the next expert.
"...for who?" asked Gilbert with a certain amount of dread.
"Ideally your daughter, but if you can't stomach that, then I suppose one of you, as long as you don't mind it being terminal. Preferably when she's in high school and she's old enough to be really affected by your prolonged, agonizing death while already trying to deal with a lot of other complex emotional issues."
The next expert suggested that they arrange for their daughter to wander into some kind of magical land where she could fight some sort of evil army.
"I am beginning to question the wisdom of our approach," Erica said to Gilbert, who nodded in agreement.
"Let's try one more, though," Gilbert said. "We already have the appointment set up." Erica agreed.
The last expert suggested a plan of epic scope. Gilbert and Erica would encourage young Kniphofia to pursue her dreams, and find her own interests. Rather than try to get her to fit in, they could let her wander blindly down a path that would leave her perpetually the outsider. She would find it difficult to relate to other children, and by the time she was in middle school she would officially be the school freak that no one would dare to be friends with. Then, and only then, would Gilbert and Erica suddenly try to get her to make friends and fit in. Ultimately, they would send her on the class trip that would have her spending a week away from home at some kind of horrible camp in the middle of nowhere, where supposedly she would somehow make friends with the same kids she saw every day back home who already hated her. There, these children would exclude her from every remotely fun activity, and the people running the camp would force her to do stupid things that did not interest her in the slightest. The children would tease her and bully her as always, but they would be made bold by their distance from the school and the fact that the only authority figures who were present would no longer be relevant in a few days, and they would do worse - maybe steal her clothes while she was in the shower, or put unspeakable things in her bed. The expert went on and on, describing the most miserable, traumatizing week Kniphofia could have without someone actually getting arrested.
Gilbert and Erica were appalled. But they were out of ideas, and it certainly sounded like the sort of thing that would equip their daughter with the emotional armor she would eventually need. She would learn that being different can be awful, that children have a limitless capacity for cruelty, and that adults were useless.
And so they agreed.
At least, I like to think it was something like that. It would mean that, deep down, my parents meant well. Because the alternative is that they were fucking idiots.
