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Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Justifying The "B" Word

 
Yes, I admit it; in a moment of weakness I looked my son’s godmother in the face and called her the “B” word. Horrible I know, but don’t condemn me until you know the facts.
      
Our son’s godparents (I’ll refer to them as Mr. and Mrs. G.) are psychologists and a delightful couple. They live in Sacramento and are our oldest and closest friends—the reason we selected them to be our son’s godparents. They’d agreed to raise little CJ should a tragedy make him an orphan. Mrs. Chatterbox and I were visiting them a few weeks before our first trip to Hawaii. Mrs. C. and I hadn’t traveled anywhere since our son was born and we were bubbling over with anticipation of tropical breezes, white sand and rum drinks served in coconuts.
      
Wine had loosened our tongues by the time Mrs. G. said to me, “You guys are going to have a great time in Hawaii. I hear the snorkeling is incredible.”
      
I laughed and said,” You’re kidding, of course. I have no intention of going snorkeling.”
      
Had Mrs. G. not been working on her second glass of rosé she might have remembered my fear of sharks. Instead, she looked down her sharp nose and said in a tone she, no doubt, used on her patients, “You know, if you go all the way to Hawaii and refuse to go snorkeling because of your fear of sharks, it’s no longer a fear; it will have grown into a phobia.”
      
“Do you have any idea how many people are killed in Hawaii because of sharks?” I said. “They keep it out of the papers so it won’t affect tourism.”
      
Mrs. G. shook her head and made a tsk…tsk…tsk sound. She spelled it out: “P-h-o-b-i-a.”
      
Her words were still haunting me when a few weeks later Mrs. C. and I arrived in Hawaii. I’d be damned if I’d let my fear grow into a phobia. I purchased a snorkel and mask, and like a doomed convict being pushed toward a firing squad made my way into the surf.
      
I spent nearly two hours in the water. Without my glasses, everything was a blur; every rock seemed to be sprouting razor-sharp teeth and my head was filled with the sound of cello music and blood pounding in my ears. It was the worst two hours of my life, but when I staggered from the waves I was rewarded with the satisfaction that I did not have a phobia.
      
Months later the Gs visited us in Oregon. We shared pictures of our Hawaii trip and I mentioned my snorkeling accomplishment with pride. Mrs. G. congratulated me. Eventually the conversation shifted to other things.
      
 “Did I mention my grandmother is flying to Israel for a month and has offered to pay all my expenses if I join her?” Mrs. G said.
      
“That’s incredible!” I knew how proud she was of her Jewish heritage. “When do you leave?”
      
Mrs. G. shook her head. “I have no intention of going.”
      
Her answer shocked me. “Why not? It would be a trip of a lifetime.”
     
 “It would require a long flight, and I have no intention of strapping myself into a flying coffin. Do you have any idea how heavy airplanes are? No one can explain to me why they don’t just drop out of the sky.”
     
 “But you’ve wanted to visit Israel for years!” I exclaimed.
      
She crossed her arms tightly and said, “Not going!”
      
I thought long and hard, choosing my words carefully. From the far side of the room my wife glared at me, a glare I understood to mean: Do not go there! But I couldn’t help myself.
      
I looked squarely into Mrs. G’s eyes. “You told me that if I went to Hawaii and refused to go snorkeling, my fear of sharks would become a phobia, so I went snorkeling, and it was two of the worst hours of my life. Now you tell me you’re turning down an all-expense paid trip to Israel because you’re afraid to fly?”
      
“That’s correct,” admitted the godmother of my child—one of my oldest friends.
      
“There’s a word for women like you.”
      
Her eyebrows shot up. “Really. What would that be?”
     
 “BITCH!”


Note: The Gs are still our oldest and best friends. And eventually Mrs. G. did make that trip to Israel. Also, this blog will be shutting down shortly so please rejoin at chubbychatterbox.com/blog.
CC

  

34 comments:

  1. I believe she's also another word that starts with H: Hypocrite. Makes me wonder what she tells patients who are afraid to fly.

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  2. I believe the B word could have been enhanced by the meaningless yet very expresive F word adjective.

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  3. You didn't? You did! At least you both did what you feared. I'm proud of both of you.

    Your feed works on your new blog and when you change over I'll go right along with you. Excellent.

    Have a terrific day. :)

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  4. I like Joeh's comment....We all at one time or other had the urg...to call someone the "B"

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  5. Oh I knew I liked you!!!! High five and cheers to you CC on a job well done!!!!

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  6. ::gasps:: But really you made me LOL just then! ;)

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  7. It's not exactly a fear of flying that's the problem. I figure if it's your time, it's your time. But what if it's the time of the guy sitting next to you and not yours? Why should you be going along for the ride? But there are 'happy pills' to take care of that phobia. Not so easy to overcome fins coming toward you in the water though.

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  8. Hahahaha, I have been called the B word a time or two. Sticks and stones....

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  9. Not liking the lack of link-backs from comments on your other address. I realize it has a more professional and commercial nature, but maybe you should explain that to those of us following you.

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  10. Oh what a shame you are closing this blog down! Your knew one won't accept my details for some reason!

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  11. Pretty cool you can call her the B word and remain friends :)

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  12. That's a perfect word for those who tell you what to do, but won't do it themselves.

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  13. totally justified if you ask me and you didn't. :) a few other words come to mind too. hypocrite is one. i can understand though coz i'm afraid of flying and sharks. i never go into the sea if i can help it. all since i saw jaws. *shudder*

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  14. My brother once called me that, and I'll admit, it shocked me. No one had ever called me that before. I don't know why it's such a big deal...it's just a word.

    Did you get in trouble with Mrs. C? Were there gasps in the room when you said it? I need follow up!

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  15. Ha! And as for sharks, I have a "w" word for those who choose to avoid them: wise!

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  16. I would go to Israel in a heartbeat. I'm glad you let that woman have it. The "b" word sounds justified.

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  17. Whoa, dude! Good job! She was definitely being a bitch. Of course, men can be bitches, too, and I know quite a few of them. People shouldn't put us down for not doing something that makes us uncomfortable. It's not as if kittens would be murdered if you didn't go snorkeling.

    Love,
    Janie

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  18. Congratulations! You're the winner of my six month Blogiversary giveaway, and now the proud owner of a set of "Don'ts for..." books! If you email your postal address to me at delightfullyludicrous@gmail.com I'll pop them in the mail.

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  19. Wow, I'm glad that didn't end the friendship. Could it be because you didn't spell it out for her? That might have been insulting. =)

    xoRobyn

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  20. PS Is there any way to join your blog through Google Friend Connect? Call me a "bitch" but I'm scared, and resistant, to do that G circle or subscription thing.

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  21. It takes a good friend to get over being called a bitch.. or to do the calling in the first place.

    At the risk of being thought of as one, however... on your site, I have a hard time with the white text on the bright red background but particularly over the orange area where it tends to sit when reading. I wouldn't have a problem with it if it was readable in its entirety in Google Reader as this blog is (instead of the "read more" link).

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  22. I've been in a similar situation before, but it didn't involve sharks. On an added note, I've also been thinking of moving the blog elsewhere (having it as only humor kinda set me back a bit), so I'm experimenting with that. Gonna make sure to be following in the other site.

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  23. I took psychology classes in college and thought about becoming a psychologist until I realized that all the students majoring in psych were seriously crazy. They weren't looking to help others, just make themselves feel better. Ugh. I got a film degree instead. It didn't lead to much, but it was a lot more fun, and at least attracted a sane group of people.
    But Yay! for you for facing your "P-H-O-B-I-A"! lol

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  24. This gives a whole new meaning to the "B" word :)

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  25. You fell for it, were up for the challenge, and did try snorkeling. I was snorkeling on Kauai and my son fed the fish and was delighted with my reaction. It was beautiful. What island was the snorkeling for you? I am sorry you were still uncomfortable with the snorkeling experience and think of it as "the worst two hours of your life". At least you know you don't have a phobia. But Mrs G does.

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  26. And just what did the Mrs. say to you after they left?
    (I changed my link to your new address, and now at work I can't get to it - is there something in the designation that makes it strange?)

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  27. I'd just call her a pencil - or HB for short. Otherwise known as a hypocritical bitch!

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  28. That is too funny! I can understand your frustration!

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  29. :-)

    Some people just have to be called out!

    Pearl

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  30. haha! I call people that all of the time. It doesn't matter the sex either. I believe I called my boss a bitch a time or two. He laughed it off. It really depends on the person and the context. :)

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  31. Well, I think you were kind! (Sorry, Mrs. G!)

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