This past weekend, I found myself sitting next to a very spirited second grader in the Grove in Oxford. She struck up a conversation with me while the adults were standing and talking about adult things. I quickly realized that we had a lot to talk about.

Important things such as Halloween costumes, favorite school subjects and shark teeth were just a few of the topics discussed. She never once asked me what I do for a living or if I thought it would rain soon, because after all, shark teeth are a bit more pressing of a matter.

I once heard a quote that said, “small talk sucks all the air from the room.” I couldn’t agree more. As adults, we grow uncomfortable when the room goes quiet. We desperately search for something to say and it usually lacks thought if we are just chasing out the silence.

But the interesting thing about a conversation with a child is that their words aren’t selected or premeditated. They are saying what is on their mind and asking what they truly want to know. When we are with the ones we love or the people that make us feel the most comfortable, we can sit in silence for long periods of time. So what makes us so quick to fill the void of silence when we are among our peers or strangers?

I think we are just trying to fit the norm. In today’s day and time, being abnormal is an indictment that most would like to avoid. But if we dug deep and really found our true selves, most of us would meet a stranger. We would have to reacquaint ourselves with who we truly are.

I once worked at a restaurant with a rather flamboyant server who loved the catchphrase, “normal is just a setting on the washing machine.” He wasn’t wrong.

“Normal” is subjective and certainly left open for interpretation. As an adjective, it means conforming to a standard. As a noun, it is the usual, average, or typical state or condition. So what is the metric we use to measure such a condition? Don’t ask me.

Fortunately I’ve never been mistaken for “normal” and conformity is not my strong suit. My wife, Shannon, occasionally has to scold me for my lack of interest in small talk when we are in social settings. For all intents and purposes, it’s perceived as normal to carry on conversation when others are doing so. Sitting in the corner alone watching everyone converse is frowned upon and not the status quo. Occasionally I try to interact with the other humans, but my lack of “normalcy” doesn’t hide itself well and my conversations typically end before they begin.

For example, a well meaning acquaintance recently asked me how work was going. My response was, “you really don’t care, and it’s not that interesting anyway.”

Seemed like a normal response to me, but not to Shannon. Her ears stood up and her glare dressed me down. I knew I was in for it. With her elegant social graces she quickly changed the subject and guided me back to my seat with her eyes alone. One glance simply said, “I can’t take you anywhere.” I couldn’t help but agree. I probably wouldn’t take me anywhere either.

Later on, my disconnected answer about how my work was going came up on the car ride home. I recall Shannon saying, “just try to be normal sometimes.” It wasn’t meant to be chastising. Her words came from a place of endearment. She just wants everyone else to enjoy the version of me that she gets to have everyday. The guy from home that never shuts up and loves to make her laugh.

There are times I can be quite extroverted and “normal,” particularly when I’m home with my family or when a conversation is about anything but the trivial aspects of life. But that doesn’t always translate to being relatable in public. Then again, some people can’t carry on a conversation with a second grader.

Personally I think growing up is a trap. I’ve tried to be an adult and it’s actually pretty boring. Especially if being normal is one of the requirements. I would much rather be normally weird  than weirdly normal.

Think about this, it’s never too late to look back. The next time you catch yourself being who you aren’t, think of the child you once were and make sure you’re not letting them down. And if you must fill the silence with small talk, try bringing up shark teeth.

Trust me, it won’t fall on deaf ears.

Clay Bowen is a Columbus native who cooked professionally as a chef in fine dining for 12 years and appeared on the third season of Top Chef. He is also a licensed landscape horticulturist. Email him at [email protected].