Well, I'm not ruling that out completely, but after a short time a picture began to form. That's when I
And then I started to cry. Not just because I was a tired, stressed out mother of three who found herself being stymied by a children's toy intended to be mastered by ages three and up, but because I realized that I am that weird little puzzle piece. I am 37 years old. I have a home, a family, a job, but I still don't know where I fit in. Where do I fit in this world? Like the little puzzle piece, I am lost... misplaced.
amount of hairspray.
I had friends here and there, but none that would really be close for a lifetime.
Some of my friends had such active social lives that my introverted self couldn't keep up with all the activity. Some seemed so much more intelligent than me that I felt like I had to study up on a subject every time I wanted to have a conversation with them. Some friends were so sweet and kind. As much as I wanted to be more like them and remain close with them for my entire life, I knew that I was not nearly as compassionate as they were and would eventually hurt them. So I quietly faded into the background.
I did not fit in right through high school and into college. I'm still not sure if I fit in anywhere. Perhaps I will some day. Maybe. I mean, every puzzle piece fits somewhere, right?
As my pint-sized Captain America stomps across the puzzle, pieces sticking to the bottom of his feet waiting to be whisked away into the Lost Toy Vortex, I realize that none of that matters at this moment. He snuggles into my lap, looks up at me with that sweet face and says, "You're my best girl, Mama." I hold him tight and kiss the top of his fuzzy head.
It's a perfect fit.