Bossy, yeah that's a term I've had applied to me a couple (thousands) of times in my life. I prefer attitude refocuser. Okay so I'm a bossy broad, born and reared.
Some of you asked, after my 9 year old, tied to a tree story....what happened at 10. So you asked and I share oblige your curiosity. Not spectacular but rather character building and you'll have to judge whose and what.
I have always loved to sing and dance. Mom enrolled me in dance classes at age 4 and thus began my love of theatrics. My Dad played the piano. He could not read music but could hear a song a couple of times and just sit down and pick it out on the keyboard. So I was also given piano lessons, in the hope that I would be able to read music and carry on the piano legacy. Lessons began when I was 6. But never mind about the 9 years of lessons and me hating it.
When my Dad played, I was expected to sing for our company. You know that's what we did in the olden days. My standard fare was "I Wonder Whose Kissing Her Now", "Mona Lisa", How Much is that Doggie in the Window?" and "El Rancho Grande". I really didn't know what the words meant, just learned them to go with the melody. My Dad didn't want me speaking Spanish. No, I don't get it either but lots of folks my age didn't learn Spanish at home but in school. But that's a whole nother thang.
When company came over, you offered them some kind of refreshment and then entertained them and then visited. (That's where my Mom's phrase, Don't eat that, we're keeping them for company, came from). Kids were expected to "do" something. I always obliged with a happy heart. Also keep in mind that I watched the Little Rascals and so had some idea how to "put on a show". Me and Darla, yep twins separated at birth.
Anyway, my parents went to New Orleans on a vacation and left me with my favorite aunt and uncle, who did not have any children. They let me do for myself and I did, pretty much. I planned a show for my parents homecoming and included the neighborhood kids to sing, dance, yodel, play the clarinet (poor little Danny) and then the big finale. My aunt and uncle just nodded and kept reading the paper when I told them of my plan. So I thought I had their permission and went on with the show.
Day of the show, everyone is in place, stage is set....yes I did say stage. The one I built on top of the hardwood floors in the den and attached the thing to the floor. Also hung a curtain from one side of the room to the other, with blanket curtains just like on the Little Rascals, which collapsed and took wallboard with it when it came crashing down. Needless to say....my parents didn't go on vacation without me or without other folks to take care of me again. I mean gee whiz Spanky.
Now you're sitting there thinking...didn't she know better, where were the aunt and uncle, how is she still alive, why would she tell on herself like this? Because I grew up to let other children do the "big show" safely and had fun doing it. Because sometimes the naughtiest thing in a child's life is the thing that gives them definition and purpose......."I will never forget what it is like to be a kid", quote from Linda Sybil in the Summer of 1961. TA DAH, with raised arms and a flourish of TA DAH.