afghans

You know, it's funny. Usually, you don't get this personal when you start a blog, but for some reason sitting here alone, I feel liberated enough to share this:
You see, I met with my therapist recently. When I sat down she said, "Atom, how's your week?"
And see? Right there; That was the beginning of the trouble. Because I have this rare condition of hearing what people don't say.
What I mean is that I hear words in sentences that are not there but they sound like they are. Most people don't hear them because they are focused on the context but I am not. Now, that may sound a little crazy, but let me explain what I mean.
She said, "Adam, how's your week?"
Well, I realize now that that’s what she said, but at the time I thought she said, “Add ‘em, House year weak?”
So, of course, my prompt retort was, “Hey! What the hell is that supposed to mean!? Are you trying to be funny or something?! Doctor?! You know very well that’s exactly the kind of nonsense my wife is always spouting off at me. I can never tell what the hell she’s talking about either and here you are, ironically my therapist, mocking me, blabbering the same sort of humbuggery! . . . ”
Well, thank goodness I helped her get that straightened out and she finally got her wits about her and said slowly, “What’s been going on in your life?”

So right there, I began to open up. I said, “Whenever I hear the term Afghan, like on the news, for some reason, the only thing I can possibly think of is the blankets, even though they NEVER mean the blankets. They mean, almost exclusively, the people from Afghanistan.
“I mean, NO ONE, not anyone discusses blankets; Ever. Can you recall one conversation you've ever had about a blanket? I didn't think so. Yet, whenever I hear "Afghans" I always think of the blankets and not the people group. Then I chuckle to myself at the absurd thought of all that hullabaloo over some lousy blankets. Jeeze, there sure are a lot of weirdoes in the world.”

Then she asks me (slowly) if I can think of any significant role that afghans played in my childhood.
So I say, “You mean the people right?”
“No . . . the blankets.”
"Oh."
I couldn’t think of anything at all that could’ve possibly been important and I tell her so.
Then I said, “I am sure this is nothing but it’s all I can think of: For years and years when I was a kid growing up, we had scores of Afghans all around the house, probably several hundred. In fact, we had no couches or beds we just had 3-foot stacks of various afghans on which to sit and sleep. And although they were at times very comfortable, it was always difficult to explain why all the afghans when I had friends over.
“We didn't believe in couches and beds. I mean we believed they existed and that other people owned them and stuff like that. I just mean to say we didn’t believe in having them for ourselves.
“This was because Jesus said, ‘The son of man has no place to lay his head.’ So we believed that we shouldn't have one either.
“I can remember being verily confused by this; and I would protest saying ‘But what’s the difference? We lay our heads on the stacks of afghans!’
“Then, the church elders and my parents would gather around me, harshly scold and warn me not to make a mockery out of the teachings the Lord or else I would be sent to my afghans without supper.
That was all I could think of.
I knew that the doctor couldn’t think of any connection between the two events either because she just sat there, staring blankly letting out a big exhale.
Then she said, “That Saul that I’m we ave fern Owww.”I was really thankful to be out of there. Those doctors are nuts.