Youngen (Actual Post)

When I was a little girl, I had an obsession with righteousness. I used to play in the bathtub, surrounded by bubbles and little rubber cat toys that my neighbors passed down to me after their kids grew up. I always used to be the tabby with the apron, pretending that she was wise and motherly. I’d always hand the one in overalls to my mother after she finished washing my hair.

I’d say, “Play with me mom.” I’d always make her be the evil one. The cat that would try to steal the freshly cooked dinner, or mumble profanities at my cat, moodily. My cat would always triumph over the other cat’s bad energy in the end. I would come up with some 4 year-old comeback that seemed witty at the time.

I would always play Beauty and the Beast with my father in the back client room. Guess who was who. I used to have this book that I would pretend to read. I was too young to actually read so I would just stare at the pages, flitting my eyes over them as if I could actually understand the lettering. I loved that book because it looked the one in the movie. My dad and I would reenact the scene where Gaston takes the book after Belle’s big musical number… and throws it in the mud. Belle then storms off and in Disney movie translation, essential tells him to go screw his arrogant self.

I remember once my mom objected to this bath time ritual. “Why do I always have to be the bad one? I’m tired of being the bad one.” But she was always the bad one. For one reason I didn’t like being the bad one myself, and for another, I didn’t think I knew how to pretend to be evil. It’s funny how my young mind worked.