The other night I was out with a group of women and the topic of fears came up. Many of my friends eagerly shared their phobias of spiders or snakes or some other normal fear, but I kept silent. Which, if you truly know me, is odd, because I tend to over-share in most areas of my life.
I kept quiet because I was embarrassed. My great fear is rather ridiculous, but it absolutely scares the snot out of my congested nose.
I am completely and utterly afraid of…….ferry boats. <shudder.>
In full disclosure I do not care for any type of boat, but ferry boats give me the heebiest of jeebies. And being the good American that I am, I blame television.
In particular, Gray’s Anatomy.
A few years ago, I was quite heavy with child and up late because the incredibly active fetus inside of me was playing soccer with my organs. To keep my mind off of any internal bleeding, I watched some t.v. There were no Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns, so I turned my attention to Gray’s Anatomy.
I had always enjoyed Gray’s Anatomy. I mean who doesn’t like watching cute doctors running around and shouting things like “I need a c-v panel and a cat scan!” while their personal lives fall into pieces around them? It’s a great confidence builder. After watching a few episodes you can say to yourself, “True, I am not a brilliant surgeon with model-like looks, but I do not have hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of student loans AND I am not a complete idiot when it comes to love.” Anytime you can say that, I call it quality television.
That night’s particular episode involved a horrific ferry boat collision. Dozens and dozens of people dead, children missing, and a mysterious pregnant woman with amnesia.
When you take into consideration that I was highly emotional on top of my miraculous talent of imagining worst case scenarios, the only result possible was one of disaster.
I am not completely sure how my brain put all the details from the fictitious television show together in a scenario involving me and my soon-to-be three children. All I know for sure is that my husband walked in on me crying hysterically, rocking back and forth while holding my huge belly, and sobbing, “I can’t tread water with three kids! I just can’t! I never even learned to dive. We have to give this baby back!”
My husband figured out what was going on (well, mostly, not even I can understand the deep wacky depths my brain has) and calmly reassured me that we could still have three kids, despite my serious lack of aquatic skills.
I stopped hyperventilating long enough to extract a promise that we would never take a trip on a ferry boat until all our offspring were old enough to tread water for themselves. As there are not a plethora of ferry boats around Indiana, my husband felt comfortable making that commitment.
In return I had to agree to run all night time television dramas past my husband for approval before I watched them, so as not to experience some kind of psychotic break. For those of you who are curious, I am no longer allowed to watch Dexter, CSI: New York, or Criminal Minds, while pregnant.
( I am also no longer allowed to watch anything with Jennifer Love-Hewitt because she makes me throw things at the t.v., but that really has nothing to do with this story.)
So, in conclusion, if you want to be a true friend please never suggest we take a ride on a ferry boat together. And if you insist on being wildly reckless and ride one by yourself? Never, EVER tell me about it. My sanity and I thank you.