I hate to admit it, but I am guilty. There are frozen pictures in my mind that resurface unchanged ten or twenty years later. Based on nothing more than a casual comment, or a foolhardy action back in high school, I sum up a person's worth. It's the gold standard of narcissism, really. To cling to a conclusion I made as if people don't change or evolve defies logic, much less empathy.
After all, I know I am capable of fickle behavior. In the course of a day, or sliver of one, I can swing between generosity and stinginess. I clutch my wallet tightly until I hear that there are children in need too. Then I throw fistfuls at the request. My annoyance with Benjamin can convert to compassion the instant I realize that he is acting out because he is scared of going to the dentist.
How is it that I can be pompous enough to summarize a person's beliefs? And yet here I am.
"I know what she thinks about that."
"Do I? Much of the time I'm confused about how I myself hold moving targets, like parenting styles, and politics. Plus I get regular updates on my own opinions, unlike the barely annual ones from acquaintances.
Once my child had a friend over for dinner. I had done research, asking his mother what he would enjoy. When I served that very dish he resisted it.
"But your mom said you like it!" I held up the sham of my argument, as if a ten year old would suddenly gobble down the macaroni like a man starved.
Yes, last week when his mother offered it, he did indeed enjoy it. But a child's taste buds shift as quickly as a teenage girl's preferences for shoes.
I suppose the only one who has achieved the frozen state of absolute consistency is Hans Solo.
