Have I mentioned that, growing up, my best friend and I were always the last ones picked for teams during gym class? Picture the humiliation of having to stand there while the two team captains argue over who has to get stuck with each of us. What's amazing is that I didn't really care much. I didn't have a competitive bone in my body, and I never could figure out why anyone cared who caught the ball, who got more runs, etc. It just didn't register with me.
Anyway, while I am no longer faced with the humiliation of kickball (and let me tell you, I have etched permanently on my brain the image of my best friend willing her foot to make contact with that slow-moving ball and yet missing it completely), it seems that my own beauty accessories insist on bearing witness to my complete lack of hand-eye coordination.
Henri the Despairing Cat was right - there is no escaping ourselves.
[Hairbrush image: SalonHive]
Further proof that the self-blow-out is physically impossible.
ReplyDeleteI always felt so relieved to get picked for a team BEFORE the last 2 kids.
Hair fixin' is dangerous, and I have the curling iron burns to prove it. Or maybe it's just that I too was always picked last for kickball.
ReplyDeleteOh, I can relate to that. Last picked for absolutely everything. I hated gym. And I didn't have any similarly klutzy friends to share the shame.
ReplyDeleteYes, misery does love company.
DeleteWhat did you look like when you were first learning to use a fork?
ReplyDeleteHmmm...that could explain why my mother was an early adopter of the spork phenomenon....
DeleteYeah --picked last for teams. Yuck. I wish I could give my daughter your sense of not-caring in that situation. Picking her up after school on a PE day is always kind of sad.
ReplyDeleteI once punched myself in the nose in a TJ Maxx Dressing Room while trying to get out of a too-tight dress. I wonder how Shakespeare would have handled that scene....
ReplyDeleteAdd another reader to your list of those who were picked last for teams at school. I'm sure this says something about all of us, but I'm not sure what.
ReplyDeleteOf course, I'm the one who took a book into the bathroom, got engrossed in a few chapters, and then tried to stand up on legs that were so asleep they'd stopped tingling! Luckily, the bathtub was there to break my fall.
I have been scarred by kickball and it's disgusting cousin, softball.
ReplyDeleteI am surprised, I would have pegged you for a competitor.
ReplyDeleteI have done the hairbrush/blowdryer whack and I'm a decent athlete!
Of course, you've seen my Words With Friends style! And I WAS the spelling bee champ. So I guess I was just not a competitor in athletics.
DeleteI,too, am chronically clumsy. When I was a kid the others would rotate around me during volleyball so that I never made it to the front row. My parents used to make me stand outside shops with lots of breakables while we were out shopping. My coordination hasn't improved one bit as an adult.
ReplyDeleteI tried get out of gym because of "cramps" at least twice a week for two years. It was not pretty, on or off the bench.
ReplyDelete