The Fabulously False Confessions of Katie Pom-Pom-Hands

So, to begin with, let me explain the Katie Pom-Pom-Hands thing. I was recently in a heated debate in an online forum I like to think of as my brain's second home, and feeling as if I was expected to be a bigger cheerleader for something than I am I declared, "I'm sorry I wasn't born with pom poms in my hands!"

Later a funny friend (who I will refer to as Insane Creative Muse) wrote to me, "You were SO born with pom-poms in your hands!" And suddenly I imagined myself as a kind of female counterpart to Edward Scissorhands; a forlorn pasty brunette with bits of fuzz stuck to her through the magic of static cling, staring sadly at her great big giant red wooly pom-pom hands.

And thus, Katie Pom-Pom-Hands was born. Clearly I have too much time on my big giant red wooly pom-pom hands.

So, just for fun, I am going to share with you all the online conversation I had in which I finally came out to my friends as pom-pom handed.

***Katie Pom-Pom-Hands Comes Out***

Poster friend #1: How do you type with pom-pom hands?

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: I use my toes. Please, don't mock me. Last time I cried, I wiped my tears with my big giant red pom-pom hands, but they didn't dry properly and now they smell moldy.

Poster friend #2: And you wonder why you're stalked by mimes...

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: It is a mystery.

Poster friend #3: Mimes love pom poms!

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: They ARE very useful if you're expressive. And mimes do like expression. Maybe I need to rethink my mime aversion. Maybe the love of my life, the one man who can accept me and my big giant red pom-pom hands, is out there, hiding behind a sad white clown face, wishing he could say the words to let me know how he feels. Maybe he feels too "boxed in" or "trapped" somehow by his emotions. Oh great. Now I'm crying all over my big red pom-pom hands again. Can someone please spray some Febreze on me?

Poster friend #3: oh, god, Katie, I am losing it big time over here. I can't stop laughing, even though it's so Very, Very Sad.

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: I am glad my tragic obstacle in life amuses you so, Poster friend #3. I would punch you in the nose, but it would probably be too soft to hurt.

Poster friend #3: ooph! Aw, that was sweet, Katie. More, more, more!

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: You are truly sick, my friend. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and visit my friend John CornCob Feet now. He understands my pain.

Poster friend #4: Careful KatiePPH, if those pompom hands are made from tissue or crepe paper, you have to worry about the colors bleeding if you cry all over em.

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: No, they're wool, Poster friend #4. Something terrible has happened. I went over to John's and he'd been attacked by crows last night. His poor feet.

Poster friend #5: OMG, I. am. dying. here!!!

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: You're dying?!!! Think of John and his poor nibbled corncob feet! I really can't get over the selfishness of you people!

Poster friend #3: I hope that wool is well processed. It could shrink and felt and you could just have itchy little tufts. Be careful, Katie PomPomHands! Be very careful!

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: Finally, a little concern. It takes a village, people. Poor John Corncob Feet. He could barely hobble to the door when I went over there, and I can't turn the knob with my pom-pom hands.

Poster friend #5: I can see where that would be hard to do, Katie.

Poster friend #4: I'm glad that your hands are more substantial than tissue or crepe paper. I had visions of you with two sodden rolls of colored toilet paper on your arm stumps if you ever went swimming. On the other hand, you can wash and dry your dishes without a dishcloth or towel.

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: You are all evil. I have to leave for a while. Auntie Jemima-Jello-Legs is here.

(Later that evening...)

Katie Pom-Pom Hands: I'm back. Auntie Jemima-Jello-Legs is such a hooooer. She drank a bunch of vodka earlier today and when I answered the door a bunch of frat-boys were on their knees, licking her feet. She's what we like to call "loose."

So I guess I never really told anyone except Insane Creative Muse until now about my big giant red pom-pom hands. I guess I just wanted you all to accept me, and think I was "normal." But what is normal, anyways? How do we define that?

This is something I have lived with all my life. Kids at school growing up were merciless. One girl used to shake my hands, but she'd hide gum in her palm. In high school one boy I liked pretended to kiss my hand and then he lit it on fire. It smelled horrible for days and then all the kids chanted, "watch out for Katie Burning Smelly Pom-Pom Hands!" I was ostracized. Even my piano teacher told me I was useless.

I was terrified that my son would be born the same way, because you know, I ate a lot of lamb when I was pregnant. God help me, I know I shouldn't have, but it was a craving!

Fortunately he turned out fine. He has been wonderful. He helps me wash my hands (cold-water hand wash with gentle detergent only) and then he air-dries them with my hair-dryer. This is a huge responsibility for a boy his age--if he doesn't do it right away, the hands get moldy as you all know. One time he accidently dried one of my hands on the hot setting. Oh God, at the time it didn't seem so funny, but now I think of it and just laugh and laugh. My right hand/pom-pom shrunk up to the size of a golf-ball and the other one was still the size of a volley-ball! I panicked a bit but then I called a knitting hotline (it's really hard to dial a phone with your toes) and they told me to rewash the hand and then stretch it out. The poor kid will never live that one down!

Poster friend #5: In this case...you piano teacher had a point.

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: See what I'm up against? I knew you wouldn't accept me as I am!

Poster friend #6: Katie, you need to do something to raise public awareness of your...uh, differently-abledness. We should make little red rubber bracelets that say something like, Give a Hand to Someone with PPH. Or someone could even come up with a slogan that's actually catchy.

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: Rubber?! Are you all too good for wool, Poster friend #6?!

Poster friend #6: No, I'm not too good for wool! I love wool. In fact, I wear it all winter. But I thought you may want to capitalize on the rubber bracelet craze while it's at full throttle.

Poster friend #5: I have lots of bulky red yarn. I could braid some bracelets for all of us, Katie PomPomHands.

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: I am overwhelmed. You guys!

Poster friend #6: We just want you to know that we care, Katie.

Katie Pom-Pom-Hands: Is anyone here allergic to wool? I just want to hug you all!

And lo, Katie Pom-Pom-Hands admitted the truth and faced her greatest fear and she discovered that her friends didn't care that she had big giant red pom-pom hands. They just cared. They loved her, and her big giant red wooly pom-pom hands, and she knew she was the luckiest pom-pom handed girl in the whole wide world!

The End.

* Disclaimer: Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. Void where prohibited. Some assembly required. List each check separately by bank number. Batteries not included. Contents may settle during shipment. Use only as directed. No other warranty expressed or implied. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment.