The Falsie Story

I had a flashback while getting dressed this morning. And it reminded me of why you should always think about what you tell your children even if you think you are protecting/censoring them.

I had a goofy "aunt" growing up. I placed quotation marks around aunt because she was actually a cousin of some sort- my grandfather's first cousin- and we were not up on the family tree jargon of third cousin, first cousin twice removed, third cousin once removed, tree branching or not branching.. I dunno.. but she was related, a part of our family and older and I was told to call her "aunt". So... I had a goofy aunt that was always telling hilarious stories and making the adults laugh. I somehow sensed this and always wanted to be around to hear her stories.

One day, she was relaying a story to my mom and grandmother and I walked in on the end of it. Just in time to hear, "...and one of my falsies popped out of my bathing suit." Everyone erupted in laughter, including me. But I had no idea what a "falsie" was. So, being the inquisitive child, I asked. And one of the adults answered, "false eyelashes." I accepted that-although didn't see what was so funny about a false eyelash floating around a pool, but adults found odd things funny- and moved on.

No one ever corrected this and at some point, obviously, I learned what a falsie really was. The story became so much funnier once I knew. But my point is- even now, at thirty-eight years old, when I see false eyelashes, the term "falsie" immediately pops in my brain and then my brain immediately corrects that thought. But that association is hard-wired in there for life.

Perhaps it isn't such a bad thing after all, though, because it also always makes me giggle, remember that story and remember my aunt who died when I was a teenager. And, on this day, not only did I look down at my fake eyelashes, remember this story and my aunt, but also made the connection that perhaps that is where I get it from-my willingness to lay everything out there for the world to see, just for a laugh.

Thank you, Aunt Jettie. I am sure you would love to know I inherited your self-deprecating sense of humor.