jumping out of skin
no big deal for snakes, crickets
big deal for people
The wee one is worrying me. Not because he’s toying with fast cars and faster women (though that would be worrisome)… but because of his new affinity for teleportation.
It would be nice if he’d use his gift for good instead of evil. He could pop into the wee-er one’s bedroom and grab an appropriately-sized diaper and then pop back to Target where I’m struggling to change her with the newborn diaper that I found at the bottom of the diaper bag.
Instead, he has embraced the Dark Side. I’ll be standing in my room, trying to remember why I walked in there and BAM, there he is, standing right at my elbow. He shows up immediately and silently. I remember why I’m in there (socks!), turn, trip over the large-headed, skinny-armed creature hovering at my side, scream, clutch my heart, and watch the room spin. Then, a few hours later, I go into the bathroom (thankfully, I remember why). I sit down, close my eyes for a millisecond and BAM, the large-headed, skinny-armed creature is back, standing right at my elbow. I scream, clutch my heart, and watch the room spin.
Of course, he thinks this is all quite hilarious. I, on the other hand, am not so amused. His teleportation has shaved YEARS off my life – and added a gray streak to my hair. I can’t handle this kind of surprise attack four times a day. I’m beginning to show signs of post traumatic stress disorder, I think. Everything makes me jump – loud noises, giggles of small boys, baby farts… everything.
I wonder if someone has invented a device or outfit or tin foil hat or something that I can use to prevent his teleporting – or at least slow it down. I’m going to try the "DO IT AGAIN AND YOU GET NO DESSERT TONIGHT" tactic. I hope it works. Otherwise, I’m going to have to keep doing my Fred Sanford impersonation, and why punish innocent bystanders?