I got to thinking about them today. I guess I hadn’t thought too much about them in a very long time, so today was “pocket thinking day.” Anyway, it occurred to me that, as a child we were always required to “fold our hands” when waiting around for this or that, but to never put out hands in our pockets. This was, we were assured, one of the true signs of delinquency.
I remember wondering if it could possibly be true that I was a delinquent if I chose to rest my hands in my pockets, rather than folding them, or letting them hang gently by my sides. Because, I can assure you, those pockets beckoned to me at every turn. I understand that pockets are made to hold things that we do not care to carry around in our hands. I get that…..but I don’t want to carry my hands around in my hands, so, why can’t I carry THEM in my pockets? This debate was routinely lost when I had the nerve to actually challenge my parents on this matter. (Another attestation to the suspicions that I was destined to become a delinquent!)
Today, I have freed myself from those restrictions. As an adult, I have chosen to use my pockets, not only to hold my loose change, and such, but also to keep my hands warm on a chilly day. I have yet to be proved a delinquent for my rebellious choice, and in perusing my bulletin board, on which I have tacked a few photos, I noticed (with some glee, I might add) that Dad has apparently also crossed the line to delinquency! Yes, indeed, someone, I suppose it was my step-mother, snapped a shot of hubby, Dad and me as we surveyed the site on which we were building our house, five years ago…..Interestingly enough, we three delinquents appear to be quite civilized, after all!