I sucked and sucked and sucked my left thumb until the embarrassingly old age of nine. Every night as I hopped into bed, I would find my thinned-by-love blankie under my pillow and embrace it up to my right cheek. Simultaneously, my left thumb would burrow itself into its warm, cozy home for the night; right in between the palate and tongue of my mouth.
Because our family dentist and my pediatrician gave no indication of any harm being done, my parents were very tolerant of the situation at left hand. I continued to suck and suck and suck throughout my childhood years.
Eventually, as I aged my way through elementary school, the sleep-over invitations began tumbling in. I told my mother I did not want to sleep over. My sucking secret could not be unleashed upon my public persona! At my urging, my mother would politely decline the invitations on my thumb-sucking behalf.
Finally, I received an invitation I could not refuse. My best friend, Ellie, was having a not-to-be-missed sleep over. Everyone at the sleep over was going to experience a thrill many others have NEVER experienced. This was a one night only opportunity! I would never again have another experience like it. It was new, it was rare, it was expensive and I knew my parents would never spend their hard earned dollars on such nonsense. They had bills to pay.
I had to go.
It was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
I would never see one again.
I would never get to touch one again.
I would never get to play with one again.
It was awesome.
It was an Atari.
I needed to put an end to being such a thumb sucker.
The sleep-over was in two weeks. I hatched and forged a rigid schedule to end my sucking days. Every night, after brushing my teeth, I would dip my thumb in some untastey matter: lemon, jalapeno pepper juice, acetone, Tabasco, etc.
Unfortunately, every night, my sucking thumb would still make its way into its cozy home. Clearly, it was telling me, "Suck me."
I needed a road block to inhibit this sucker from finding its way home. So, even before Michael Jackson made his fashion statement, I was the one-gloved wonder. Yet, despite the glove, I sucked.
In complete frustration at all my sucking failures, I found myself flipping over onto my stomach and burrowing my face into my pillow.
I could not let this habit define me. I could not suck my whole entire life. Knowing this was the time to break the sucking cycle, I took both my hands and jammed them underneath me.
All night, I slept with both hands weighted underneath my nine-year-old body.
That night was the first night I didn't suck in bed.
Did you enjoy this? Please vote for me and two others!