Friday, November 7, 2008

Bossy Betty Makes a Scene

Many have suspected and I am here to verify that I do indeed have superior peripheral vision and a highly sensitive startle reflex. While others in my household may not see this as an advantage, I have long held out the belief that these attributes would serve me well, say on a treacherous, snake-filled jungle trek, on a shuttle with various technical instruments journeying into unexplored outer space, or when looking for a specific pencil skirt in a size 8 in the first hour of the first day of a deep discount sale at a crowded Macy's.

Yes, it is true that I have screamed upon being surprised at innocent members of the household who just happen to be entering the house from the garage while I am walking down the adjoining hallway. Yes, I have been known, on occasion, to shriek when the peanut butter jar falls from the shelf in the refrigerator or perhaps let out a blood-curdling screech when coming across a leaf on the floor happens to be shaped precisely, astonishingly, Ripley's-Believe-It-Or-Not-worthy like a dead mouse. Perhaps this is annoying and, I suppose, a tad bit unnerving, but aren't I exactly the person we need in our society when the earthquake hits the library and I alert the general public, including small, highly fragile children, with a shrill, emergency-like siren of a scream to the dangers of the books shooting off the shelves like heat-seeking missiles? Instead of the derision with which I am viewed here at our home when I scream at the occasional umbrella-looking-like-a-rifle-with-a-bayonet in the hall where no umbrella-looking-like-a-rifle-with-a-bayonet has ever been before, should I not be looked on with appreciation tinged with pity? Is this not a gift that I must live with, work with, sleep with, even as it torments me?

And so, I did not appreciate the looks that passersby gave me as I experienced a moment today while walking down the sidewalk outside of Kohl's. I was wearing my new necklace which had been made especially for me by one of my best friends, Karen. She had made it with her two gifted little hands and it features a beautiful bead which I had admired from the moment she had shown it to me. Now, I am used to necklaces that are a little shorter, a little closer to my throat, so is it any wonder that my gift/burden of superior peripheral vision and highly sensitive startle response kicked in when the sunlight hit the bead just right leading me to believe there was, not a necklace, but a hard-shelled beetle upon my chest? I made the evolutionarily appropriate sounds for such an event which led others to stare at me as I simultaneously made the aforementioned sound and repeatedly slapped my chest, attempting to get the "beetle"off.

For comparison purposes, I supply here a picture of the necklace AND a picture of the beetle. I will not tell you which is which. You will have to grapple with the confusion, the indecision, the excruciating uncertainty, thereby giving you just a hint of what Betty deals with on a daily basis.





Don't envy me. Don't douse me like a flea with the with the suffocating powder of poisonous pity. Just allow me to live among you in peace.

I remain your faithful servant, Betty.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Nice beetle picture.

pretzel0901 said...

You are so McPherson...

Trisha Dawn said...

You ARE related to my mother!!!!

Susan said...

I laughed out loud at this one and scared my dog!

Bossy Betty said...

Susan--Perhaps your dog has the same skills I have! It's a blessing!

Karen Llata said...

I'd love to know here did you found that lovely beetle? I make earrings, too.

Karen Llata said...

OMG...what did I just say??? Please ignor that last comment and replace it with...

"I'd love to know where you found that lovely beetle. I make earrings too."

Your friend with "gifted little hands" can type quicker than she can think...though she is very warm hearted! :)

Shan said...

One time I shrieked at my friend. In fact, if memory serves, I shrieked her name. She said I almst gave her a heart attack and that she was mentally going through the list of people to call. In my defense, a bee had landed on my shoulder just as we got into my car. Was it my fault that I was less than a week from my due date with Mad? I think not!