Miranda: The Early Years

Age 1: I like to dislocate my jaw to chew on my fist while I'm sleeping, which results in me making throaty grunts in the middle of the night. This prompts Mom to wake up and say things like, "Dave? Check the baby. Make sure it's still a baby."

Age 2: I refuse to wear a dirty diaper. Instead I walk to the changing table, get a clean diaper, hand it to an adult, then proceed to squat down and take a dump. When I am finished I immediately lay down to be changed.

Age 3: One morning while Mom is getting dressed she hears a noise coming from my room. She walks in and finds me skipping around the room singing, "I'm happy! I'm happy! I'm happy!" Up to this point in my life I've been so disagreeable Mom gets weirded out and calls Dad at work for input.

Age 4: At Christmas time I receive a pink stuffed dragon and I quickly name her Elizabeth. Within days I have created an entire past life for Elizabeth, including a short-lived career as an opera singer. For the next five years I take Elizabeth everywhere.

Age 5: Dad takes me for Kindergarten screening and the woman asks me to count to ten. I tell her that's too easy and decide instead to count past a hundred. She is very impressed. Dad is so proud he takes me to Dairy Queen and lets me order anything I want. I pick a small vanilla sundae with rainbow sprinkles, and realize for the first time that being smart gets you prizes.

Age 6: After a horrible case of the flu Dad decides to wash Elizabeth, but her stuffing comes out in the washer, leaving nothing but her thin nylon skin. I am mortified and insist on going to the craft store immediately so we can restuff her. When we get there I march straight to the counter and ask the sales clerk where they keep "dragon guts." Then I spend twenty minutes squeezing every single bag of stuffing to make sure we get one that's just right.

Age 7: I audition for the school play and get cast in the lead role, Lana the Ladybug. I spend months practicing my solo. Right before the afternoon performance I get so nervous I puke all over the school hallway.

Age 8: We are learning about flowers in school and the teacher brings in roses for us to tear apart and look at. I ask to save mine because my mom is graduating from college that night and I think she will like it. She does, and says she's glad she graduated on flower night and not the week before when we were dissecting owl pellets.

Age 9: A girl in my class, Sarah, gets her period and everyone is talking about it in the bathroom. One girl says that if Sarah uses a tampon she won't be able to have kids ever. I call her a retard and proceed to lecture her about feminine hygiene.

Age 10: I am in love with a boy in my class, Matt Pope, who is moving away. On his last day of school during his going away party I give him a note confessing my undying love, partly because I don't think I will ever see him again. The next Monday at school Matt is there -- his family has to wait one more week because their new house isn't ready. He refuses to make eye contact with me and for the first time in my life I am truly humiliated.