I always thought that I was terribly
different to everybody else.
Particularly growing up in a small country
town in NSW. My parents were English and said
"yogg-ert" instead of "yow-gert", "booo-fet"
instead of "buf-fet" and "pudding" instead of
"dessert".
My Dad even took me shopping once and asked
the bemused shop assistant for "plimsolls"
instead of "sandshoes". I could have died. I'm
surprised I didn't.
While my Italian friends were related to half
the town, I had no relatives in Australia except
my Mum, Dad and sister.
I won first prize at the local show in the
smallest pet category with my tadpole. And the
other contestants thought they had a chance with
their chihuahuas!
I was very keen on tapestry at the age of
eight and was an avid reader well before then,
while other kids my age were watching Sesame
Street.
I always thought these differences were a bit
embarrassing. I yearned to be just like
everybody else.
Thirty years have passed and now I'm thankful
for my differences.
And I'm relieved and thankful for the
differences I find in others.
I have friends who do volunteer work; friends
who own their own businesses; quirky friends;
arty friends; friends who waitress; friends with
kids; friends with cats; friends with pierced
tongues; gay friends and friends with blue hair.
They are all different.
I also have a friend who has
transsexualism.
He's very special, but this has nothing to do
with his condition.
It's more to do with the fact that he's
married to a great friend of mine and I see how
happy he makes her. It's to do with how gentle
and patient he is with his two sons; how welcome
I feel when I visit their house; how adept he is
with a BBQ; the fact that he always has cold
beer in the fridge; the ease with which he
entertained all the children at his son's first
birthday party; and generally just what an
all-round great bloke he is!
For myself, I've given up trying to be like
everyone else. I feel lucky to have enough
quirks and idiosyncrasies of my own to avoid
being terribly dull.
And besides, as I get older and wiser I think
Mum and Dad were right.
It IS "pudding".
