crooked stitches

My fondness for nursery rhymes learned when I was a child has not diminished as an adult. Many of them have come to mean much more now that I am older, wiser, and have a different relationship with and understanding of words. Sometimes when the sing-songy sounds pop into my head, they seem to be teasing me about what is happening in my life prompting me to chuckle rather than fret. Take for example this one:

There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile;
He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse,
And they all lived together in a little crooked house.

This short tale of a man, who I now feel had problems with his spine, perhaps an arthritic condition, resonates with me because after seeing a chiropractor earlier this year I found that both my back and neck are crooked, seriously in need of correction. When I was first shown my x-rays, I left the doctor's office almost in tears; the rhyme spoke to me just as I was about to break down. Giggling, I realized that my visit was the beginning of a much needed mending of injuries sustained years ago, that this "stitch in time" is saving me from what could have progressed into an irreversible condition leading to pain and limited mobility later in life.

Now I know that crooked has another meaning; my interpretation of the crooked man and all the other bent and misshapen things collected along his path has never wandered into the shade. Don’t get it twisted people, do…

keep your peepers open!®