By Wendy Cartwright

Guest columnist

I did some research for this week’s article, again. The things I have been thinking about are from my childhood. And I’m not always sure if the differences are due to location or age. I have found that this topic is probably due to both.

Story time …

When I was young, I thought I knew everything. I was convinced I knew things about things I knew nothing about. One particular instance comes to mind.

I don’t know how old I was, but I was standing in the living room of my grandmother’s house. My mom had the ironing board out and was pressing something. When she was finished, she told me to be careful of the hot iron. I told her that the iron wasn’t hot anymore because she had just unplugged it. She informed me that isn’t how it works. She told me that the iron would still be hot for some time.

I insisted she was wrong. She, again, told me that simply unplugging the iron did not mean that it had cooled. I’m sure she explained that the metal had been so hot that it would take some time for it to return to room temperature. I argued some more and, again, she informed me that I was wrong. This continued on until she had had enough.

She said, “Then touch it.”

I honestly don’t believe that she intended for me to touch the hot iron, but she had had enough. I, in my infinite childhood genius, was determined to prove her wrong. So, I touched it.

My mom knows all the home remedies for whatever ails you, so she went to the kitchen and mixed up some baking soda and water. This is great for minor burns. (I’m no doctor and neither is my mom, so don’t take this as medical advice.) She put the paste on my finger, and it soothed what would soon be a blister.

Just yesterday, my roommate, who was raised in the Midwest and only a little older than me, told me a story about her dad. She said that one Halloween she didn’t have a costume. She was upset so her dad fashioned her one out of his clothes. This was not what she had in mind, and it made her more upset. She refused to go trick-or-treating. Her father proceeded to compel her down the driveway telling her that “she WOULD go trick-or-treating and she WOULD have fun.”

Midwest parents are just different. Through my research, I found that parents during the 70’s and 80’s in more urban locales were becoming more interested in culture and diversity. It seems to me that Midwestern parents were more interested in practical matters. I think both foster growth and learning and not to say that Midwestern children don’t get culture, but growing up in the Midwest taught me valuable lessons that I might not have learned so quickly if I had grown up elsewhere. I didn’t know it at the time, but I learned about electricity and heat conductivity at a very early age. I’m grateful I had the experience of growing up in the Midwest.

Wendy Cartwright hails from the North Vernon area and has lived there most of her life. She has a love of sharing her thoughts on growing up in the Midwest and other stories from her life. She spends her days reading and writing in the home she shares with her husband and chihuahua. Send comments to [email protected].