What I Can Do with a Sledgehammer

S. and I were out at Sakura tonight. Mid-whale mode, we started talking about children. Her point was that children are sociopaths to whom we need to impart direct lessons about empathy and compassion: "See how she's crying? That's because she's sad. Remember how sad you are when you're crying? You should be sad now, too."

My point was that the child we were is the adult we are. When I was 8 or 9, I was very much into Ancient Egypt. Mom and Dad bought me some kit that had a bunch of plastic "relics" all in a faux limestone block. The kit came with a brush, a miniature chisel...all the accoutrements of a junior archaeologist, so I could learn how to properly excavate a site.

I took one of Dad's hammers to it.

The same is unfortunately true of me in most social situations today. Those who possess true social grace can finesse their way through any event with a chisel and brush, but I swing a sledgehammer like Thor upon the giants. And it pisses me more when I have encounters with individuals who are upset but who will brush so softly they will not even move dust upon the limestone, than it does those who chisel at the problem (even if it's me) as hard as I might.