What If I Have to Grow Up One Day?

by Susan Griffin

I ask myself, "What if...?" on a daily basis.

Usually the question ends up being something like, "What if I took this stapler and put stickers on it that look like eyes so that when I staple stuff it's like the stapler is biting the paper and losing metal teeth that will always regenerate?" Or, "What if I took this pair of scissors and made them talk as if they were a dangerous metal puppet?"

Unfortunately for my cats, I also incorporate them into my daily routine. Sometimes it's something like, "What if I picked my boy cat up and danced with him across the room?" Or, "What if I held one of my cats" ears down close to its head and said, 'No Ears!'?"

And these are not empty "What if?" questions. I act on these impulses to play about ninety percent of the time. I blame my childhood games. My cousin and I used to play a game that my mother later titled, "And Then...." We would have our action figures out (or stuffed animals or GI Joe and Barbie) and when something really terrible was about to befall the dolls we would create a narrative with as much melodrama as a couple of nine-year-olds could muster.

I would usually start out with something like, 'And then...Barbie falls off a cliff!"

My cousin would counter with, "And THEN Paratrooper GI Joe jumps down after her!"

Not to be outdone, I would shout, "AND THEN HIS PARACHUTE FAILS!!!"

We would both collapse in hysterics as the unfortunate toys met their untimely demise.

We would always try to make the situation worse for our poor toys, to up the stakes from the last peril they endured. In hindsight I suppose we were somewhat morbid with our toys, but they led exciting and full lives in my house. I was never afraid to go that next level with my toys and ask, "What if Barbie met up with Alien? I mean, Alien has acid blood and all, but Barbie has those crazy spike heels and all that bound-foot anger. Not to mention that 'Math is hard' bad press."

And although I do have a few action figures that are not still (and possibly forever) trapped within their plastic and cardboard packages, they are not always around when I need them.

So, I invent action figures. From ordinary objects.

I don't just put a clip in my hair. I pretend my hair is an unrestrained beast that must be tamed by The Clippy. The Clippy comes chomping toward my hair, unwilling to relent until my hair is back out of my face and under control. I don't just eat dinner. I make my carrots scream out with little carrot-voices, "No, please! Please don't eat me! I've been underground, I tell you! I know NOTHING..."

Sometimes I wonder whether this is normal behavior. I am certainly an adult now; I should probably be buying some pantyhose or working on my portfolio or something. Fortunately, the people with whom I associate understand that this silliness is part of my routine. I don't get along well with those folks who can't laugh at things. People without a sense of humor do not understand me. People whose senses of humor have been buried underneath years of neglect might have a shocked and immediate reaction to my odd whims, but they usually make excuses to move along and don't come back to talk to me anytime soon.

And anyway, I figure the pantyhose would just end up on my head and if I had a portfolio I would most likely end up making the file folders fly along like pterodactyls. The same would be true with a briefcase. I bet a briefcase could chomp down a bunch of file folders!

I do realize that this attitude might be misunderstood by many, but being silly makes me happy. And even though my playful whims have been a near-constant in my life, there have been times when I didn't feel like playing. I felt no joy. I had stopped asking myself, "What if?" to measure my future possibilities because I was too busy asking, "What if I had done that?" about choices I made in the past. For a while I forgot how to play. But I really believe that joy is always around me. I just have to look for it in all things, even office staplers and hair accessories.

Being silly helps me to find joy in all my surroundings and helps me remember to consider all the possibilities in the question, "What if?" So I guess my answer to "What if I have to grow up one day?" would be simply, "I already have! And it is more fun than I ever imagined!"