I woke up thinking about how much fun it is to check my latest post for comments, and how I feel at that very moment when I see the number of comments, and then how I feel when I click on the number and I read the comments. It's a very specific feeling, but how to describe it? Tricky!
So I imagined that it must be somewhat similar to how my daughter must have felt when she left her tooth under her pillow for the tooth fairy, and then woke up to find the tooth gone and a note in its place.
So I went and asked her if she remembered how she had felt at the time, and she said that she had never reeeeaaally believed in the tooth fairy, but that she had a lot of fun waiting to see what the tooth fairy would write next. Then she proceeded to go to her room, rummage around for a while, and return to me with a cute little plastic folder which contained every single one of the tooth fairy notes. Oh my. There was Dentina's cute little hand-writing, describing her life with her brother Denton, her parents (Brace and Fluorida) and, of course, her best friend Minty.
My hunch was clearly correct. The way one feels when reading comments on one's blog is very, very similar to the way a child feels when reading notes from the tooth fairy.
Now, I couldn't just leave it at that. No I could not. I immediately had to frantically search through my matzah-muddled brain for more comparisons. More, more, more. Following are the best of the many I came up with.
Reading comments which have been left on my blog is like:
- Looking out the back door in the morning and seeing that the food you left out for the possums is gone.
- Waking up very early on Christmas day and seeing that the glass of milk is half empty, the cookie has disappeared and the carrot has been nibbled. I imagine.
- Pulling up to the the toll-booth on the Harbour Bridge and being told that the car in front of you (driven by a TOTAL stranger) paid your toll.
- Feeling very strong nibbles on the end of your fishing rod.
- Giving your new neighbour a plant, which he then plants beside the fence, which then grows and grows until it peeps at you over the fence and blossoms, profusely.
So here are the rules of the game.
If any of you out there have any more similes to add to the list above, please let me know. I SWEAR that I will not steal your ideas. I will, however, add them to this list I have started, ensuring that each is quoted verbatim with exact note taken of the original author. It may become a permanent fixture on my blog, but don't hold me to it.
Ready, steady...GO!
19 comments:
Buying a cashmere jumper and discovering it has just been marked down in a sale - and you didn't know until you got to the till when the sales assistant kindly told you. Yessss!
I ache to see one of those tiny notes. What an interesting tooth fairy to live with - ours was slightly erratic in later life.
It's like hearing from someone else that one of your children did something wonderful.
Any serendipitous happening when for just a moment you forget that your belief is that there is no such thing as a coincidence.
...like the first sip of wine at the end of a long day, and knowing that this sip will be followed by many more sips--and, perhaps, gulps.
Dreaming that when your alarm goes off it is Tuesday and you have to go to work, then actually waking up and discovering it is Saturday.
Wait. That is not quite right. Try again.
Like opening the shades in your dark, dimmed bedroom to discover that the sun is shining and it is a beautiful day.
Better, but still not quite right.
Like working your tail off on a project at work and afterwards getting a totally unexpected bonus/letter of praise in your personnel file/gift card to Starbucks from your boss's boss in recognition.
Yeah. That's it.
...like finally getting that much anticipated letter from a far away friend.
Oh, the anticipation of what that letter will say!
Receiving a letter from your boyfriend, and the back of the envelope says SWAK.
did that harbour bridge thing really happen?
Like getting home from a holiday away and being gobsmacked at the colours the leaves have turned.
Seeing my kids reaction on spotting me when I'm picking them up from school (and how they then run to me).
My kids reaction when I get home from work.
A new pair of shoes. Or handbag.
A performance that transports you.
And BBM - that Harbour Bridge thing? That happened to me and I've done it for someone else too. There are some nice people in Sydney.
It's like watching your little garden spring back to life after a rough winter.
It's like watching kids play in the sprinkler. Or grown men dance.
It's like waking up early to sunrise over the ocean, and having the whole beach to yourselves.
It's like standing by a bonfire on a fall night.
It's like having your grandfather teach me a poem.
Oh, and it's like finding a funny, refreshing new blog to look forward to.
It's like receiving a thank-you note or a letter that is completely unexpected, and you have no idea what it will be about until you open it up.
... like being 12, and being picked for the soccer team or netball side before the really popular girls. ;)
A feeling of wonderment - someone really does like me for who I am, sight unseen, and they come back, again and again, to see me.
Watching your teenager run out the door, stop, turn around and come back to kiss you goodbye and tell you they love you.
It's like meeting a new friend or an old friend for lunch at a really yummy restaurant. And you just went into monologue and wonder if you went too far and they poke you and say, I get it. I get you. That's what it's like. Even when they disagree.
It's like visiting a particular blog several times a day to see if they have posted anything new. You decide that you will check one last time for the day and there it is a brand new post - fresh - just waiting to be read.
hehehe
hi mum!
It's a salve for lonliness, much like when the words in a good book leave you breathless, astounded that someone else has written exactly what was in your heart.
I deleted the last one due to poor grammar.
It's like the way your dog feels when she's looking out the window and sees you coming home.
It's like running into a former colleague after several years away from the job and having her say, "We still miss you! No one has been able to replace you!"
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