Thursday, June 01, 2006

I have a confession . . .

I am absolutely, positively, freaked out by and terrified of kites.

I had been meaning to confess this for a long time on here, but I was reading Allison's blog and it reminded me. As much as I love Avery's Nemo kite, just looking at it flying up high made me feel like I was going to throw up. One of my favorite movies when I was younger was "Mary Poppins" and when they got to the "Let's Go Fly A Kite" part of the movie, I would have to turn away. I still listened, because I loved the song, but I couldn't watch it.

When I was younger I was so afraid that I would get picked up off the ground. I would actually lay myself out flat on my back on the ground as if that would help keep me down. I hated the pull of the string as it went from side to side in the air. Just the thought of it makes me ill. Adam's announced a couple months ago that she had bought kites (included a Care Bear one for Alyssa) for our next "family fun day" and I swear I felt myself go completely white just thinking about having to fly a kite. I know that I'm not going to get lifted off the ground (HELLO! I've been overweight since I was about 10!) and even if I did I could just let go of the string, but just the sensation of being so terrified and traumatized as a child makes me think that I will never ever be able to fly a kite the rest of my life.

Weird, huh?

1 comment:

Paula said...

I've added this to my list of strange things I know about you. ;)

If it makes you feel better, I'll confess that holding a wooden spoon gives me the heebie jeebies like fingernails on a chalkboard. Imagine how the little wooden sticks in popsicles tormented me. Or the tongue depressors at the doctor. Shudder.