Welcome to my world - The world of Tish

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Left Handed Compliments

Growing up as the lone southpaw, I was ineligible from many activities. My mother couldn't teach me how to play the guitar, crochet, or knit. I took it a step further and claimed I couldn't peel potatoes since the peeler was designed for right handed people. My husband blew that theory all to hell within the first year of our marriage. Thanks, honey.

In third grade, I was the only lefthanded child in a room full of perfect righties. The teacher, a mammoth Nazi with sideburns and dead animal breath, would literally smack my hand if it curled around the paper. She forced me to hold the pencil, slant my words, and keep my paper exactly how the righties did. To this day, I am frightened of women with bad breath and I block print everything except my name. Thanks, Mrs. Mayfield. I hope all of your grandchildren are lefthanded.

The stats out on southpaws are a little disturbing. We are more likely get hurt by right handed products and are around four times likely to die in accidents than our counterparts, the righties of the world. We are also more likely to be depressed, suicidal, suffer with allergies and have anxiety attacks. If that were true, then more than half of the world would be left handed instead of only 13%. The bad news, I will probably die sooner than my right handed husband, the good news, everything I ever do wrong can be attributed to my lifelong disability, being lefthanded. Maybe the government should give us additional tax breaks. I wonder what the ratio of Democrats and Republicans are for this issue, but I am sure we can find out.

My kleptomaniac great grandmother was left handed unless, of course, the item she coveted was on her right side, then she became ambidextrous. My rodeo grandfather was left handed and even was World Champion in 1946 for calf roping so I am in good company. Much to my husband's chagrin,*our son showed signs of being lefthanded, but has since gone over to the 'right' side as of three years old. Even with me placing the crayon, marker, pencil, fork, or toy in his left hand, he refused to fulfill his mother's dream of another leftie in the house. Thanks, son.


Life as a southpaw is difficult to say the least and there's no relief in sight. Doors are made for the 'right' world, spiral notebooks, can openers, scissors, guitars, potato peelers...the list is endless.

There is racism, sexism, age-ism...what about hand-ism? We must take a stance, people! Rise up, Southpaws of the world, and let it be known that we are here to stay....
SO SEAT US ON THE LEFT CORNER, DANG IT!

*I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO USE THAT PHRASE IN A STORY, YIPPEE FOR ME!

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