Normality Bites

It was a funny old day.

From questions posed to me such as “Can I lift you up by your head?” to a statement directed to a cat of “You can stay but you have to share.”

What on earth do you do with a day like that?!

It should perhaps fall into the deep well of Forgotten but some mundane, everyday things are too good to be sunk in such a way.

Did I just say ‘everyday’?

Well, everyday for me but (I imagine) not quite so everyday for everyone.

Isn’t it odd how we get used to the weirdest things?

Or how we don’t get offended when a young person announces: “You’re not getting anything from Santa ‘cos you’re ugly, smelly and a spoilsport.”


What is normal to me is not so normal to another. People talk of offices and cubicles and horrible commutes and the 9-5 grind fueled by coffee and gossip.

A totally alien notion to my mind.

Normality to me consists of working with hundreds of young people, living with three cats, working alongside a crazy team amd avoiding being lifted up by my head.

What is normality? I’m sure we all know that here is no such thing. One day I can be answering a phone call from Hitachi; the next trying to help a young person through their darkest hour; and shortly afterward, bouncing a ball in a youth club and gleefully shouting “Doing!” with each spring.

Or maybe its the person that makes the normal a little bit weird.

Maybe we all do normal things and live normal lives but it is the way we act in a specific setting that sets the ‘weird’ gauge quivering.

So, in my example, bouncing a ball was quite normal.

Commentating was not.

I maintain that being asked if I could be picked up by my head wasn’t normal (it was certainly a new one on me) but I reckon my reply of “No. ‘Cos that is stupid” was fairly normal. Maybe it was the questioner who broke the normality code.

So, assuming that ‘normal’ exists at all, I would argue that perhaps normality is dictated by actions rather than situations.

For example, playing games in a youth facility to entertain young people is pretty normal; explaining to them that they have to smear butter on their face and then stick it in a bowl of Cheerios and count how many stick is perhaps not so normal.

Sometimes, I just bring it all on myself.



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