“No, I don’t wanna be a clown!” I cried as I ran away from my father to hide, and pout, and resist the red, yellow, and blue garment he was dangling in front of me.
I was 7 and I had just spent the past few minutes being awed by my older cousin in her princess costume. In the brief time I was aware I’d arrived at a costume party, I’d also arrived at false expectations of getting an equally girly costume.
Apparently, though, my dad had known about the party all along. As I made a scene, he’d explained how hard he’d worked on the clown costume. Yup, my dad had sewn together the primary-colored atrocity, and eventually I gave in to wearing it.
I didn’t usually make scenes like that. I swear, my parents will tell you I was a pretty well-behaved kid… that’s probably why everyone felt so bad for me. Everyone complemented my ridiculous attire, but I didn’t believe them. I don’t remember any talk about a contest, but suddenly, there was a tiny golden trophy in my hands. I’d won 1st place for my costume.
I’m not a parent, but I imagine parents do project their own hopes and dreams onto their children-whether intentionally or not, and my dad is definitely the funny guy in the family. However corny his jokes are, they’ve rubbed off on me. Today, I’d much rather make people laugh than put a dress on. You will certainly never mistake me for a princess… but a clown… that’s not outside the realm of possibilities.
In case you’re wondering WTF this has to do with this photo, well, I can’t escape seeing a smile in it… what do you see?
Did you know?
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Artsy Reflections started out as the Photo and 100 Words project back in 2014 – find out why I started it and how it evolved.