|The Blog|| |
posted July 2, 2013 @9:34p
This morning I woke up from a nightmare.
I was being chased all over the city by this really mean dude that preferred I was no longer alive. Cornered, hiding on top of an old-fashioned wardrobe, I knew it was the end of the line for me… and it was scary enough to wake me up. Who was this meaner-than-mean dude?
Daryl Hall. Of Hall and Oates. The one WITHOUT the luxurious mustache.
You remember - "You make-a my dreams come true. Doo doo, doo doo." Or "I can't go for that. No-o-o. No can do."
But it wasn’t the 1980s version of Daryl, it was the modern-day version (if you haven’t seen his show on PBS – and, most likely, you haven’t – he now looks a little like a California mobster hit man).
My nightmares have changed very little since I was a kid. The earliest nightmare I can remember is being chased by The Incredible Hulk, only to be rescued by Tom Willis (of "The Jeffersons") in a tuxedo at some sort of outdoor-black-tie-pavilion event.
But my real life fears have changed.
Had you asked me as a kid what scared me the most, it was easy: spiders. In my late teens? Ghosts. And spiders. In my 20s? Mayonaisse. And ghosts. And spiders. But now? Having a child has completely rationalized all my fears.
Don't get me wrong - I still want absolutely nothing to do with mayo, ghosts or spiders.
But suddenly – since my daughter arrived - I worry about such different things. What exactly is in this food? Are we teaching her everything she should know? Is the corner of this table sharp enough to do some real damage? Where’s the nearest ER? Why can’t I button my jeans?
Being (more) grown-up is stressful.
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