Jan 23, 2007

Playing Tag Again

by Tina Scott, Guest Blogger

Five of my deepest, darkest secrets, hmmm; I’ve pondered my response to the ‘five’ for several days now and I’m still at a loss.

1. I’m an Arizona native (not native American). I grew up a couple of blocks from the Temple and I used to frequent the grounds as a child. That is one of my fond childhood memories. It was a privilege and an honor that not too many have gotten to experience.

2. As a teenager, I started developing a talent for sewing. I started making pantsuits, and dresses. The problem was, after a while I’d get bored with the whole thing and I’d ask my mom to finish putting my project together. One summer I decided to sew my own swimming suit, and this time I finished the project myself. Our stake often had young adult swim parties at the old Falcon Field swimming pool north of Mesa. My swim suit was finished just in time, so I got to wear it. I don’t know how many people remember ‘baby-doll’ swimsuits, but they were similar to today’s ‘tankini’ except the top was a little longer and not snug fitting. I was pretty proud of my swim suit until I jumped off the high dive and my top fell apart. Devastated, I clung to the edge of the pool trying to get the attention of my friend. I was sure everyone had seen me. But, irregardless, it wasn’t much of a show.

3. I’m invisible. I suspected it years ago, and it’s been confirmed over and over again. The first time I suspected that this phenomenon of mine extended beyond the circle of my children was at my aunt's funeral when my uncle and all of my cousins referred to me as ‘Randy’s wife.’ My husband is a fairly dynamic person, and anyone who meets him remembers him. He’s a great guy, and a perfect husband – the fact that he sees me when others don’t is one thing that has endeared him to me for all these years.

4. I was seventeen before I went on my first date. (I should have realized I was invisible even as a child – but it never occurred to me then.) I was eighteen before I looked like I might possibly be old enough to date. Adults at the time would tell me I’d be thankful for my youthful looks one day. I hated them for saying that, but thirty five years later I can declare it’s true. I am grateful for all of the adult years I spent looking younger than I was. Unfortunately, I think I’ve caught up with myself.

5. I wish I had some fun little tidbit about myself - I know – I’m the baby of the family. As the baby of the family, my mom and dad always insisted I go to wedding receptions with them. I hated going and felt like a tag-along – I’ve continued my aversion to wedding receptions all these years. At these receptions, my parents always introduced me as ‘their baby’. This aggravated me so much that I finally confronted them about the problem. (I felt that as a teenager, they should be able to introduce me by name, and leave out my station in the family.) My dad totally understood and he never introduced me as their ‘baby’ again. Instead, he referred to me as ‘the youngest child left at home.’

Tag, you're it: Jennifer Griffith and Valerie Ipson.

Marsha's note: Jennifer and Valerie, please send me your blog entries to post here, if you don't have your own blogs.


  1. Tina--I love your comment on being invisible. I know how you feel. That's what seniority, or senior-hood does to you, too. We moved away from our home ward--where we had lived for 25 years--to temporarily live in another part of the state, and I was truly invisible in that ward, that is until my handsome, single, 19-year-old son came to visit. Then all the mothers of teenage girls were very anxious to make my acquaintance.

  2. Tina,
    I would have loved to live near a temple while I was growing up! I've often wondered if I would take the Temple for granted if I lived that close. I don't think so.

    I love the bathing suit story...

    I am intrigued by your perspective as "the baby." Being the oldest and the only girl, I grew up differently, I think. I think it would have been fun to know each other then!


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