Nature or Nurture?

Warm, boiled, pastel poultry ovum!  Yeah!

Small incidents in the lives of children can be prescient personality indicators.  For instance, when River was 3 he attended an Easter Egg Hunt on the Coast Guard base along with maybe 30 other pre-schoolers.  The eggs were hidden in a great mound of shredded newspaper; the youngsters formed a circle around it, eyes bright with anticipation - except for River, who eyed the whole scene suspiciously and clutched Tammy's knee.  When the signal was given the entire pack launched into the pile with a keening roar - but not River.  He reeled back in horror and burst into tears.  If it had been 1889 Oklahoma, he would've been homeless and riding hell-bent for Texas, weeping all the way.

."I'm gittin' me some free tornados and drought!"

15 years later implicit distrust of mob-mentality and herd behaviour is a prominent feature of River's introverted social makeup.  Was he born that way or did the squealing horde establish an early loathing for group activities?  Which came first, the chicken or the egg? (See what I did there?)  I don't know, but even today if his peers are playing, he's the one not enjoying it. 

    Then Timmy slept a long, long time.

I was very young, but I remember brushing my teeth in the small farmhouse bathroom, getting ready for bed.  I had just about finished when my sister came in to do the same.  Crowded together, I finished my ablutions and stood there, watching her flog her teeth for what seemed like hours.  I remained transfixed, breathing shallowly, careful not to disturb her efforts at hygiene.

Some tasks are better handled alone.

 Finally, after about 3 minutes, I asked if she was almost done. "Why?" she burbled through dentifrice foam - "Go to bed already!"  "I can't", I said calmly. "WHY NOT?" she exclaimed, mystified. "Because you're standing on my foot." I replied.

One foot from freedom.

Was it tolerance or conflict-avoidance that kept me pinned to the bathroom floor instead of wobbling away and donning my flannel jammies with minty-fresh breath?  Whatever it was, it remains through adulthood, and it still freezes me in place just as nicely.