The Bear Hug
So, I was standing in Northmart, the major grocery store of Inuvik, waiting for James to buy our 10 kilo bag of flour- we've already gone through ten kilos of flour!! Isn't that amazing? We're so proud!
Anyway, this little girl about maybe seven or eight goes "Mica" flings herself at me and has me in the equivalent of an eigth-year old bear hug, which means that her arms are wrapped around my waist, which is pretty much as high as she can reach, pinning my arms to my sides.
At this point, maybe I should mention that I don't know any eight year- olds, but I have seen some suspiciously small figures saying "Mica" from a distance, and I've never quite figured out how they know my name.
So here I am, rendered helpless by an eight year old's hug.
I ask the first question that comes to mind.
"How do you know my name?"
"My sister" she responds.
"Who's your sister?" I ask
"Nicole" - ah, this becomes a bit clearer, I think, Nicole is one of the two girls who seem to have attached themselves to me, mainly because James is "bomber"- more on that to follow when I have more time.
"What has she said about me?" I ask.
"That you have a boyfriend."
" Oh, and who might that be?" (this time...) I ask- ie which riduculous rumor are you going to spout. I'm betting James...
"The librarian" makes sense, she doesn't really know James and Karlis is her librarian.
"Hmmm, I'm not actually going out with him."
"You're not?!?" (incredulous)
"No, I don't have a boyfriend" (Sorry, Johann, but I decided I don't want to know what will happen if I tell them that I have a boyfriend in Australia. Maybe I'll be braver later on- I have a story about that as well)
"What else did your sister tell you?" I add.
"That you have a kid" (That's a new one, never heard that before. A kid?!)
"Sorry, I don't actually have a kid either."
"Oh"
The bear hug loosens, steps back.
"What are you doing here?" she asks.
"Buying ten kilos of flour."
"Ten kilos..."
"Of flour, that's right. We've already used our first bag."
This is obviously not as interesting a conversation as the one about my illicit love affairs and consequent children. The bear hug drifts off.
"And I'm looking at these puzzles", I add, desparately trying to attrack her attention feeling like a failure, a very uninteresting failure.
To no avial. The bear hug departs in search of warmer and greener pastures, in the general vicinity of the condiments aisle.
Or perhaps in search of more poor souls to torment and accuse of having children- (I still can't belive the children thing.)
