Armadillos Jump When Startled

"I'm going to Oklahoma to visit my parents," I said on Friday.

"Oh! I thought you were from Texas?" my assistant said.

My head spun trying to think how to explain. Well, I am not from Texas, in fact, I have never lived there, but my parents did, so I used to visit them there and now they live in Oklahoma, so I visit them there. But I am not from Texas or Oklahoma.

I have grown to know and like Oklahoma and Texas. I like the sky and the horizon and the cows and oil wells and the expanse of space between towns. I like the slowness with which people talk. I like country music in small doses and torture my kids with country music when we go down there. I like brisket from Texas. I like banana splits from Braum's. I have things that make my trips south familiar and happy for me now, but it is not where I am from and it doesn't feel like going home to drive under the Oklahoma sky and hear the accents start and watch the earth turn red.

Saturday night we sat on the back patio at my parent's house, and I saw an armadillo. I chased him out of the ravine and my kids and I followed him curiously through the playground at the school by my parents' house. His little nails clicked on the asphalt and his ears twitched as he skedaddled away. I wanted him to roll into a ball. Not really, I mean, I worried that we were scaring him too much, but we were harmless and curious, and part of me really did want him to roll into a ball because I wondered what he would look like.

I thought about that armadillo as I went North on Sunday driving home. I thought about my means of protection and how I sometimes run instead of roll into a ball. I thought about how it is sometimes hard to know what is harmful and what is not. And sometimes rolling into a ball will not protect you at all. I learned that North American Armadillos do not roll themselves into balls. They have too much armour to do that. They also have a strong startle reflex. When they startle, they jump straight up! That's why so many of them get hit by cars. The scared armadillos jump right into them.

I did feel at home on my parent's patio even though I have never sat on that patio. My parents are familiar, the tone of our conversation is familiar. Even my name, "Lea Anne," the only time I go by my full name, becomes familiar. We eat and watch movies and I see my parents with my kids and feel comforted. It is my home though it is unfamiliar. I did not feel the urge to jump or roll into a ball all weekend. I needed to go home for the weekend. And that meant that I went to Oklahoma.