7 things you told me would happen but never did

1. That my eyes would go square. I sat in front of the television for eight hours straight and nothing about my eyes’ shape changed. Although I was beginning to doubt your counsel, I sat for a few more hours, but the only thing that happened was my brain cells drying, fizzing away like a couple of Berrocas in water, minus, of course, the energy boost.

2. That my hair would go curly. Sure, it happened, as all bad things lamentably do. But it wasn’t because of the crust. Because I never ate it. I always coughed it into a napkin and fed it to the baby.

3. That my face would freeze and stay that way. I poked my tongue out and rolled my eyes, and you smirked because at that moment the wind changed. You even opened your nonsense-making mouth to tell me so. But feel embarrassed, Ridiculous Mother Dearest, because my tongue is in my mouth, my eyes perfectly aligned.

4. That potatoes would grow behind my ears. Something did, but it wasn’t potato.

5. That I’d be able to see in the dark. A dangerous lie to tell a child who is already convinced they are superior to all other children and big people alike and that terrible, marvellous adventures await them as soon as their powers have fully developed and they can sneak out after dinner to test them. You are lucky I didn’t get mauled by possums or swept into the sky by a class of demented bats. Would my average daily intake (ADI) of two carrots have been worth it? Really, Mother?

6. That I’d get piles. Given the amount of times I was forced to sit on ice-cold cement, due to public school lunchtime environments and lack of windproof, rain-proof, bear-proof seating arrangements, I know that this, Mother, is a dirty lie. But what I don’t know is what the point was.

7. That it would fall off. It didn’t. I don’t think I had one to begin with.