THE TWO-TOED WOMAN

My daughter, although very talkative, is not very forthcoming, and in fact one of the most traumatic experiences of her life was buried deep in her until she confessed it to her favourite aunt.  Such confessions tend to come at night, as we lie waiting for sleeping, discussing her standard night-time question: “What have we done today?”

It was during bedtime of the second day at daycare that she mentioned to me the woman without toes.

Or more accurately, without three toes.

Her experience at daycare had so far been a roaring success. A little blond angelic girl had made friends with her, they were continually holding hands, hugging, and whispering to each other, language being no barrier. Her teacher had said she was excellent, and my daughter was angry with us for coming so soon to pick her up.

So on the second day, we went a bit later.

And that night, with her arms around my neck, she shyly told me that a woman who had only two toes, the big one and the last one, and “skin in the place of other toes’ had entered their room in the afternoon. Not only did she have just two toes, she also very tall, so much that if she had been a little bit taller, her head would have touched the ceiling, according to my daughter.

My daughter had immediately assumed that this woman had come to take her away. Look at the paranoia lurking deep in the heart of even the most innocent creatures! Why would she think that? Why would she think we had sent a two-toed giantess to pick her up? Lacking English, my daughter could not explain her fears to her teacher, and she had started crying desperately…

Hugging her so hard that she was in danger of breaking her neck, I explained to her that only three people were allowed to pick her up from the daycare: her mother, father and her uncle, and the daycare was not allowed to give to ANYBODY else. By this time, my daughter was red-faced, laughing hysterically at her own tale and my shocked reaction, and tears were streaming from her eyes. When she was a bit calmer, I told her that some people sometimes had accidents, and one should act polite and ordinary with these persons.

While her father was roaring “Why doesn’t she wear socks?? Why the hell doesn’t she wear sock? Who wants to know about her f**** accident?

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

5 comments

  1. Goli

    Ohhhhh godddd…. I mean O MY F***in GOD! POoooor love….. It reminded me of Faati n Sina…. This wasn’t as scary as that though. It was actually funny in a way…. since I could well imagine all your daughter’s expressions while explaining it to you….

  2. to Goli:
    you have a twisted sick mind honey!
    what is funny about it?

    to Thenewcomer:
    I didnt know she only had toes number one and five
    I thought she had two middle ones side by side
    its become even more scarier
    the good point is that the woman is comf enough to display them
    on the other, her public display of the toes bothers us so much
    The big moral question is that should a handicap hide his/her prob?

    BTW check my new photoblog

  3. Shiva

    In an ideal world, I suppose everybody could accept and see other peoples’ disabilities comfortably. However we are not ideal people- and it was Sheida’s bad luck to be exposed to this in an foreign strange environment where she couldn’t communicate her fears properly…

  4. scentedswamp

    No… I mean the way Shiva wrote it was so funny… I was laughing, shocked. Like Dark Comedy. A sad plot written in a funny way. & yes it’s my favorite genre. Many people’s fav actually… So I’m not sick… Or better to say am not the only sick person…

  5. thenewcomer

    Well, Sheida was also laughing. Eventually.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: