Move over Charlie Brown. A new “World’s Most Scared Person” has been crowned – me! Oh sure, you thought it was you, but it’s not. Just look at some of the things you have done. You directed a Christmas play. You are the pitcher on a baseball team. And you kissed a girl with red hair. That sounds like living on the edge, if you ask me. You put me to shame.
Me? I can’t even look in the mirror without sneaking up on it. I’m too scared to go out of my house, and staying inside isn’t a picnic either. It is a proven fact that everyone either dies outside of the home or inside it. We are doomed. Did you know how many people die in their own bathrooms every year? Neither do I. I was too scared to look it up.
Rise and Shine
Getting out of bed every day is an adventure worthy of Admiral Byrd’s trip to the North Pole. First, before I put my feet on the floor, I have to check for thumbtacks. You never know, the home booby trap ninja’s may have visited overnight and sabotaged my house. Then, I search for my socks. I have to wear socks. Did you know that two-thirds of the people who get pneumonia weren’t wearing socks? Not really. I made that up. I was too scared to look that up, too. I am too scared to look up anything to do with disease, accidents, or death because I heard that if you do, you will die of what your looking for. It’s sort of like the universe saying, “Well, if you want to find out more, I will be happy to give it to you.” I think that is called a self-fulfilling prophecy or something equally scary.
Having breakfast is way harder than it sounds. The kitchen is filled with all sort of sharp objects, all pointed at me, and the toaster is a death trap waiting to happen. Once I manage to get the refrigerator door open without an attacker springing out, I am faced with the dilemma of what to eat. Nutritionists argue about what is healthy and what isn’t, so I am stymied unless I first check the Food And Drug Administration’s website for the latest warnings. Since most mornings I am very hungry, I don’t have time to do any major research, so I just reach for a bag of Fritos, because it contains all the 5 major food groups in one easy-to-open package.
That brings me to my next fear: running out of Fritos. This happens every few days and paralyzes me even more. I tried contacting the Frito-Lay company via e-mail and asked to have the delivery truck stop at my house, but it seems as if they don’t want to waste there time on any orders less than 10 cases. I only need 5 cases, so I am out of luck. I was going to call and complain (or more likely to beg), but that brings me to my next fear: the telephone.
If you want to talk to me, you had better not call my house because I won’t pick up the phone. Somebody could be listening in. Edward Snowden proved that one. They listen to everything you do, so be careful. Now that I think about it, they’re going to be awfully mad that I spilled the beans, so just forget this last paragraph and move on.
The Fun Never Ends
I could start compiling a list of my fears and post it here, but that would only bore you and bring up another fear: losing blog followers. Let me just put it this way so that you will get a clear picture: you name something and I will tell you why I am scared of it.
I’m serious. If you don’t believe me, here are some examples of common items and why they terrify me.
Apples – the seeds contain the poison arsenic.
Sweaters – they can get stuck on your head while putting them on, thereby smothering you to death.
Candy – they get trapped in your windpipe and you die.
Animals – rabies.
Babies – it’s too soon to tell if they are aliens or not until they start talking, unless they have tentacles.
Little kids – did you ever see the movie “The Omen?” Enough said.
Showers – did you ever see the movie “Psycho?” Ditto.
Movies – did you ever see “The Omen” or “Psycho?” Do I need to go on?
Okay, I better stop here before someone gets the wrong idea about me. People judging me scares me.
I bet you are wondering what I do about my fears. How do I cope with them? How do I have a happy and fulfilling life? It’s easy. I say hello to them every day – and then I say goodbye to them. I know they are not going to go away, so I just lock them in a closet, crack a window (because I don’t want anything dying in my closet) and I move on. Case closed. Life saved. Here comes the happy day.
Oh, and one more secret to my happy life: never, ever run out of Fritos. Those things are magic!