Blow The Whistle
For those of you who didn’t have one of these plastic warbling bird whistles growing up…you sure missed out. Mine was orange and I think I got it from the fair…i can remember taking baths at gmas and gpas house and they would yell out and I would blow the whistle…I think I was 4, 5 maybe 6…it was introduced to me when I was allowed to take baths alone…it was how I communicated to the grandparents I wasn’t drowning in the bathtub in the bathroom with turquoise and black tile from probably like 1960 and the wall paper was hiddeous…i think as a teen I had the pleasure of scraping it off the wall…it is those little happy memories that stick with us and consequently form who we are or become. There is a few things to become of this story but…I guess what comes to mind now is that my grandma and grandpa were waiting and listening to hear the bird whistle…I can remember blowing the whistle unexpected as such not prompted or called to…as a kid I got a kick out of that…I knew it would make them giggle…and they would know I was ok and in my 4 year old head maybe I thought I was one step ahead of them…
So today…i am looking to blow the bird whistle again…will thy listen?
The whistle can only be heard if you listen…if your talking you won’t hear it and may miss it…who knows when it will blow again…and if you miss it…then guess what…thats a memory lost.
Happiness can be put into words if you recognize and seek it…and I have superlative faith that is no fail…Therefor those who think they are pulling a cover over my eyes are the true fools and it is then their turn to experience humility.
