A List: Things I’m Afraid Of

1. Murderers in jeans.
Don’t they seem fiercer in jeans? All the serial killers seem to wear jeans. Oooh, but pleated khaki slacks are hella fucked up too. I know, everyone’s afraid of death by Dahmer. I know. Shut up. But I really, really don’t want to go out like that. When I take Cole upstairs to give him a bath, I deadlock both doors and stick a pool stick in the sliding glass door, just in case someone breaks the lock. Right? What would you do if you were hanging around upstairs and KAZOW, enter murderer, stage left? I run through this scenario often, and it always ends with kicking him vehemently in the shins. And dying, slowly, painfully – the last thing I see being dirt-smudge Levis. Sick.

2. Plane crashes.
Specifically, a plane that crashes while I’m aboard. I mean, yeah it’s horrible when you hear of a deadly crash. But I’m always like, “Glad that wasn’t me.” Bad karma? Do I have any other? Honest to God, every time I get on a plane, I cry. Sob. Shake. Didn’t happen until Kaiser came along and I became really, violently afraid of death. Eh. Sorry. That one’s not funny. Unless your plane is crashing and you sing, “Be kind to your web-footed friends, cause they just might be somebody’s mother. Be kind to your friends in the swamp, where the weather is always dump. You may think that this is the end. Well it is.”

3. Noise.
I’m really afraid of loud noises. Like when Kaiser screams. Little jackhole. He knows it scares me, and this delights him. I’ll be in the kitchen, mindin’ my bidness, chopping some carrots. I call out for him. Nothing. Can’t be good. So I’ll turn around and, “RAAAAAAAARGGGGGGGG!” This hideous, horrible shriek. Terrifying. It’s all fun and games, Kaiser, ‘til Mommy loses a finger. My noise fear also applies to: televisions, Eleanor barking, that sound beetles make in the summer, trucks on the highway, pencil sharpeners and the Dr. Who theme song.

4. Invertebrates.
Essentially, anything that squirms or wiggles. Fuck. That. Worms? I try to be all cool when Jed picks one up to show Kaiser. Truth be told, if Mr. Segmented Body touched me, I’d most certainly shart mah pants. Snakes. Slugs. Eels. Goosebumps, just writing this. And what sick soul came up with the designated terms to describe these nasties? Words like notochord, mollusks, Annelids? I need a shower.

5. Certain street signs.
I don’t like the diagonally shaped black and yellow sign. I just don’t like it. When I was a kid, I believed that it meant something sinister was ahead. Don’t know why, probably some freakshow adult said it to be funny. I took it to heart. It freaks me out. Warning: This road is populated by loud Levi-wearing trolls that ride on eels. Whatever. I’m similarly uncomfortable around RR crossing signs and grow anxious if I stare too long at mile markers.

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