I am wearing two hats. A bobble hat and a cap. The bobble hat is a tall red Oddballs hat with a large pompom and the cap is a black open mesh trucker’s cap with Marbella and a picture of a dog surfing on it. The bobble hat means that the trucker’s cap doesn’t sit snugly on my head and often falls off, so I have to bend over and pick it up. I am doing it wrong.

I am walking with my feet on the opposite sides. This entails crossing my legs at the thigh so that my right foot is roughly on the line where my left foot should be. I can’t take full strides because the right leg impedes the left and after a number of paces it chafes the thigh where they cross. I am doing it wrong.

I am picking up my guitar and turning it over so that the strings are facing my belly. I try and align the sound hole of the guitar and my belly button, for no other reason than I like the mental image of those two horrified Os thrust up against each other. I strum the guitar but it doesn’t make a sound, other than a gentle scraping on the back side. I am doing it wrong.

I have fitted the collar of the dog around its bottom.

I wash the windows with paint.

I sleep in the full bath.

I have planted a garden of soup cans.

I am doing it wrong.

People are very concerned. When they see my double hat, they double-take. When they watch me walk they seem saddened at first as they assume it’s a disability, but then look shocked when I sit and my legs unwrap themselves. People tell me my dog doesn’t like it. They say windows should be clear. No one wants to help me harvest my soup. People tell me I’m doing it wrong.

There have been interventions. Friends have intervened. Family has intervened. The police intervened when I reversed all the way to school. There have been sanctions. Arguments. Fights. All because I’m doing something wrong. The world is flexing its muscles and trying to push this hernia back into place. People won’t stand for it when you do things wrong. They want you to do it right. But I am doing that wrong too.