What if you met your former self?

I couldn’t believe it. I closed my eyes, shook my head and did a double take but when I reopened them it was still there. I was still there or at least a version of me. A version from many years before, the childish side that everyone said was spoiled. Boy could I see why.

I knew it was wrong to beat a child, but if you were the one doing it to your own self was It still wrong? The child, me, I ran at me and screamed directly into my own face “I want pizza! I’m hungry.”

“Whoa, whoa now settle down. I don’t know what we are having for supper and if you are supposed to eat before.”

What was I saying? Why was I worried about supper? Was it just a reaction to all the times I heard it when I was younger? Wait, this was the younger me so now I was telling it to myself as it echoed inside my head. This was just downright weird.

“Have you finished your homework? I bet you haven’t and you are waiting until morning to just cause a fuss as you rush it between breakfast and the trip to school.”

There I went again. It was almost an automatic thing. I wasn’t even thinking about it just saying things I heard when I was little, but now it was me saying them to myself. Well, the younger version of myself. All I could think of was why? Why was I having this weird hallucination? At least I hoped that was all it was.

I heard what sounded like a doorbell and suddenly a new version of me entered. This was the bit older but no where near mature version. He, I, was escorted by a police officer who stopped when he faced me, uh the now version of me.

“Is this one yours?” The officer asked

“Well, uhm, yeah sorta. I think.” I managed to respond.

“We caught him breaking into the school. It’s not the first time he’s been in trouble. You need to get a hold on him before he ends up in jail or worse.”

“Thanks officer and don’t worry, he , uhm, I turn out well. I never get in any major trouble.”

“It’s not you I’m talking about. It’s him and I hope he surprises me, but you need to keep an eye on him.”

It is me, it is me. I’m the one, I turned out good. Please, you have to believe me sir. The words were shouted in my head but never came out as sound and the young officer left without the knowledge I wanted, I needed him to know.

“Hey, what’s the little brat doing here and why are you looking at that officer so weird? You fruity or something?” This new version of me asked.

“No, but what if I was. You would be too. Nothing wrong about it.” I said to myself with a bit of embarrassment at the jerk, the bully I was, uhm I used to be. You know, that immature version of me I was talking to.

“Hey I’m not a brat. Make him say he’s sorry. It was mean. You shouldn’t call others names!” The youngest version of me said with a sadness to his voice.

“He’s right. It was mean. Now apologize to me, uhm you, uhm him for it.” Oh wow this was getting confusing.

“Sorry turd I called you a name. Quit your whining or I’ll make you hit yourself!”

“Hey, you just called me another name!”

“If anyone here is going to start hitting themselves it’s going to be you, I mean me, I mean you. Just everyone be quiet!”

We all looked at each other in awkward silence until the door opened and I entered, err another version of I.

“What’s going dowwwwinnnee in this towwwwinnnee peeps.” He, I, said along with a lot of body movement.

“Who you?” The youngest me asked.

I just dropped my head in disgust at the sight. I mean anything but MC J.E.D. I could have dealt without ever having to see the late teenage wannabe rapper side of myself again. Yet here before me I stood and wailed away.

Thunk, Thunk, Thunk.

“Honey, honey! Wake up!”  A distant voice beckoned.

“Huh, what?” I slowly opened my eyes to realize I was in my own bed. Only my wife was there with me.

“You were dreaming sweetie. You sounded like you were trying to rap or something. It was awful.” My wife told me as she busted into laughter.

It was just a dream, just a dream Thank goodness I am back in reality. I wonder how my wife will take it when I tell her I’m not sure if I want kids anymore. Mom had told me my kids would be little versions of myself only a little more misbehaving. I don’t think I could handle that!man-295975_640


Post inspired by Cimmy and her challenge The Dream. Check it out or add your own answer to her challenge. Thanks Cimmy for the inspiration.

6 thoughts on “What if you met your former self?

  1. If I ran into my former self, I’d tell it to beat the shit out of Sarah Jons at recess and never date artists.

    And not slam the tip of my left index finger into the sliding door twenty minutes ago because DAMNIT! There aren’t enough ice packs and vodka shooters to make this better.

What are your thoughts? What if you shared them?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s