In celebration of the fact that everyone has their kryptonite, today’s offering will be a bevy of random information about little old me. Enjoy.
** I’m way too lame to go underwater anymore.
Being underwater requires the acceptance of certain inevitable consequences. Namely, that water will go in my ears and up my nose, both of which I find extraordinarily uncomfortable. I’m not sure exactly when I became such a weenie about this. I mean, I loved swimming as a kid so clearly the water thing hasn’t always been an issue, but now? If you catch me jumping in the lake it’s usually because Bear’s freaking out in the water.
** Speaking of the lake, that water makes me just a wee bit nervous.
BrightSide was a little confused the first time we visited the lake and I balked at getting in. He was all What’s the problem? It’s a closed body of water. There’s nothing in there but fish! This may or may not be true, depending on whether you believe snakes are somewhere in the lake, but even so…it’s lake water. I can’t see what’s in there, and that’s what freaks me out. This feeling has intensified since I was sitting on the steps and a fish nibbled my foot. A relatively small fish, granted, but still.
** My elevator behavior reaches every point on the spectrum.
When it’s just our family I’ve broken into a song and dance that horrifies T-man. He’s just as embarrassed as if I were serenading him in his school cafeteria, and there’s usually some pretty shocked “MOMMM!!!” exclamations. Good times.
When I’m pressed into the back corner, taking shallow breaths and reminding myself that even humanity in mass quantities is good, I respond in one of two ways. Sometimes I stare intensely at the elevator number as it clicks up or down floors, counting breaths and repeating that I won’t literally die from a crowded elevator. Or I go the other way, blurting out random comments that sometimes freak out strangers. During the last episode I compared our elevator’s shrinking available space to the molecular structure of an atom. Yeah. I’m a real kick at parties.
** I detest blowing up things.
Not like demolition or vaporizing an ex-boyfriend’s stuff (not that I would know). I simply cannot deal with blowing up balls, balloons, or pool toys. The pressure in my head builds and builds until it feels like my eyeballs are gonna pop out of my skull.
** The insecure middle school kid in me simply will not die.
I still get stressed out over walking into large, crowded spaces and finding a seat. Compound this by ten if I have to find a certain number of seats together. Hotel pools, company dinners, movie theaters – right before I walk through any of those doors my heart skips a beat then gallops away, my palms get twitchy, and I wonder how many people will stare at me as I stumble around looking for my place. Ever the odd duck out.
** I have absolutely no interest in jumping out of an airplane.
This wouldn’t even make a “lame” list for normal people. Unless other normal people are married to someone who utters insane statements like “I’d love to go skydiving sometime.” Ummm…no. Go ahead and place your bet; there’s a less than zero chance of skydiving making it onto the One and Done list.
** I would never make it as a professional athlete, model, actress, or weightlifter.
Basically, any career requiring I spend half my day in the gym while sticking to a never-ending diet is pretty much a nonstarter for me.
** I don’t pull teeth.
Not my kids, not your kids – absolutely no teeth pulling for me. T-man and Bear always come running, insisting I see how loose a tooth has become, then they open their mouths wide and wiggle that tooth back and forth. No two ways about it, seeing something that looks like a bone (yes, I know it’s not technically a bone) wiggle freaks me out. Add in the floppy factor and blood and there’s nothing in this process that works for me. Thankfully BrightSide and several teachers have very helpfully stepped into the breach.
For other random kryptonite facts check out 5 Things I Can’t Do from last fall.