My Mannequin Daughter

“Where’s Baby Sis?” my Mother seemed in a panic. She worried about losing one of my children in the shopping mall every time we went shopping with her.

She referred to my youngest child, my beautiful, creative kid with ADHD, who was about seven years of age at the time.

“Don’t worry,” I assured Mom. “She’s right here.” I pointed to the mannequin display in the center of the wide mall hall.

“Where? I don’t see her.” Mother continued in her scared voice.

“Here,” I said as I walked over to the display and pointed to my child.

Mother began to laugh with relief and with totally surprised amusement. Baby Sis stood completely still, posed like the mannequin.

On the dais or raised platform, my skinny kid with long legs and huge green eyes had positioned herself with bent arms and legs to look like the figure with no head. She only moved her eyes a slight bit as people walked past her. Otherwise, she was perfectly still.

It would have been difficult for my hyper child to pose like that for any length of time, but she managed to do it.

This was not the first or last time she attempted such a trick, but each time I laughed as if I had not seen it before. I still laugh when I recall how she looked.

“Do you remember when Baby Sis would be the mannequin?” Oldest Daughter asked me a few days ago.

Then we both literally burst out in laughter.

“Oh, definitely! She bent her arms, twisted her neck and head, and stood there perfectly still. I would see other shoppers break out in giggles when they past her, but she never broke her stance.”

After nearly 25 years, we remember with delight the many antics this classic ADHD child thought of and acted out on impulse.

Oldest Daughter recalled the cholla cactus we brought home from New Mexico as we traveled in a small motor home. Husband dug it up from the side of the road and placed it in a huge bucket near the back of the vehicle. We cautioned our small child to stay away from the thorns, but the temptation was too great.

Two hours later we heard her scream loudly as she cried, “That sticker bit me!”

My older two children hollowed with laughter, and so did I after I made certain she was not injured badly.

“I told you not to touch it,” I reminded.

“But I wanted to see it,” she justified herself.

“Seeing and touching are two different things.”

“No, Mommy. I can’t see it without touching,” she explained in her most serious voice.

She assured me she had seen enough of the strange plant to last a lifetime.

Even now, Oldest Daughter said, “We knew it was a matter of time. Crown Prince and I were just waiting to see how long it would take her to get stuck with a thorn.” And then she laughed again with tears of amusement streaming down her cheeks.

“Her impulsivity led her to do some really interesting things,” I agreed.

“Still does,” remarked her sister. “She makes me laugh every time we are together.”

“She’s like your Dad in that regard. And she has it down to an art: quick comments that literally zing me. She does it with a straight face, just as he does.” I almost bragged.

“Yes,” agreed her sister. “Remember when we went tanning last weekend? My sister waited with me while you finished. I whispered that the girl at the counter seemed rather dull-witted. I mean she just did not come across as bright at all.”

“What did your sister say or do?”

“She turned toward me in a half-second, pulled her lips into that characteristic expression of disdain, and without missing a beat she made one of her comments.”

“Did I tell you MENSA has more than 50,000 members in the United States alone?” she asked seriously.

“I’ll tell you, Mom, I did not expect her to say something like that. I’m surprised you didn’t hear me laughing .”

If I had heard, I would have known Baby Sis said or did something impulsively.