I get “I wish I could be in your head for a day” a lot.
Truth is, the inside of my brain is so full of random rubbish, I actually spend most of my conscious existence sifting through the mess that is my thinking process.
This is why I may often be staring off into space or be making no sense.
This is no new development. Since I hit the toddler stage, I’ve been semi-insane with dreams and fancies pouring out both ears, and as a result I have frequently blurred the line between imagination and reality.
Perhaps the best example of this would be the day my Nan came round to play one summer. It was an ordinary day. It was sunny. I was six or so, and so you would assume, a completely harmless little lad.
My poor Nan.
She didn’t stand a chance.
As soon as I heard the words “Play” and “Nan” my tiny little mind went into imagination overdrive.
Next thing my Nan knows- we are at the bottom of the garden in front of the shed. I like to imagine at this point a feeling of unease stirred somewhere within my Nan, a feeling she dismissed instantly- after all, I was only her six-year-old grandson.
What could possibly go wrong?
How could she say no to that little adorable face of mine? My shining eyes filled with wonder and dreams?
No-one could.
My Nan, impressed by my imagination and creativity, foolishly agreed to test out my time machine.
“So how does it work Ben?”
“You get in and you go to the future!”
I believe my voice actually trembled with excitement at the prospect. My tiny fists clenched in emotion.
“Are there any spiders in the shed? I really don’t like spiders, Ben.”
“It’s not a shed Nan, it’s a time machine. No spiders in time machines.”
Nan hesitated. That rumble of unease resurfaced: was it really a good idea?
She looked into the darkness of the time machine and shivered.
My hopeful face stared up at her. Nan made a decision.
“Okay Ben. Show me how it works.”
Taking a deep breath, Nan stepped into the machine. Nan had put her faith in me, trusted me not to put her into a situation she would not enjoy.
Nan believed in me.
This went on for a while. I had a great time. Nan did keep yelling to be let out, but how could I do that?
She was in the middle of her journey through time.
Eventually the journey was complete. I unbolted and opened the door.
So sorry, Nan.
Tags: imagination, nan, time
Hey. Found you on StumbleUpon. You’ve got a pretty funny blog going on here. While the “bad drawings” thing is in right now, I would recommend a tutorial or two. Your humor is spot on and your pictures do add to the story, but I feel you’d be right up there with Hyperbole and a Half or The Oatmeal if you improved the art a bit…
…a considerable bit. No offense. Still, keep blogging and I’ll keep reading.
To each their own, SidusKing. I like it, and not everyone has both real writing and humor talent and art skills, as Hyperbole and a Half, and to a degree The Oatmeal, would show you.
Keep up the good work, Ben.
Ahh! I really like what you’ve done! I check your site regularly and get super excited when there’s a new post. I’m pretty sure I’m absolutely in love with you.
PLUS we have the same brains, I’m pretty sure.
DOUBLE PLUS i once was in a shed when i was a wee bitty lass. Turns out there was a colony of fire ants living in there as well. They swarmed me and point of this is I can completely understand your nan’s p.o.v.
GOO!
I love it the way it is
I love it too.
I demand more!
MOAR POSTS.
Checking every day for more posts and not finding any = disappointment.
Improving certainly, but Allie is pulling away exponentially
LMFAO!!
Damn you ben, you’ve made me create an account on twitter just to be able to follow this blog XD
If you’re Ben Wells … who am I?
I am so confused….