Misreading Adventures

Freudian slips are those things you say that don’t mean what you meant, but do mean something. Usually something you were trying to avoid saying all together. But what’s the word for Freudian slips in writing or reading? Because those are the ones that get me thinking.

 

Like write and right. Whenever I’m writing, I usually interchange those two. I write right for write, and write for right. Most people would figure this was simply because they sound alike. But, I think there might be a more psychological reason. Not exactly Freudian, but definitely cerebral. I love to write after all. And I love being right. There is, in my opinion, a right way to do everything. And it’s my way. I think every time, I right write for right, or right for write, the universe is trying to tell me something. But, I generally don’t listen to the universe. All its attempts to tell me I’m not necessarily right are just annoying.

 

Of course, this Freudian thing happens in reading, too. Which is why I didn’t make it to the family Easter get together. I was home relaxing Saturday when my mother called. “Where are you?” she said.

 

“Home,” I answered.

 

“Why?” she asked.

 

Apparently, my sister had written that we were getting together on Easter Saturday. But, I just saw Easter and assumed it said Sunday. I read the writing wrong and wasn’t right and am now being accused of having a senior moment. But, I’m thinking it was actually a reading Freudian slip.

 

Then last night, I was reading The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman. I got to the line that said, “Mrs. McKinnon, who had taken up crocheting when they had banned smoking in the staff room….” Except I read, “Mrs. McKinnon, who had taken up crotchetying when they had banned smoking in the staff room…” I was temporarily delighted to know that I could not just be crotchety, but I could actually practice crotchetying. Then I realized I’d read it wrong.

 

But still – I think I like my version better. If we can make a verb of Google – to google it. Or text – to texting. Why can’t being crotchety become crotchety it or crotchetying.

 

Apparently, crochet and crotchety actually have the same origin. Crotchet means both a small hook – from which crochet comes. And it means something whimsical and eccentric, which somehow led to crotchety. Although how, no one seems to know.

 

I’d take up crotchetying, if I didn’t suspect I already practice the art with impunity. But there is, I’m sure, nothing Freudian about it.