By now, you’ve either all seen or at least heard of the show “My Strange Addiction”… the one that has people that can’t stop eating cleaning fluids, chew on rocks and fine china, or are in love with dolls.
I don’t have any of those- thank God- but I do have a strange slightly irrational fear. Not your typical spider terror or fear of heights… my strange fear is bellybuttons.
|put that shit away!!|
THERE! I SAID IT!
I am afraid of bellybuttons!
They just totally ick me out.
DO NOT TOUCH MINE, and for the love of all that is holy, don’t mess with yours in front of me.
Why? I can’t be 100% sure. I have a fuzzy recollection of someone jabbing me in the navel when I was little and yelping out in pain… but sometimes I think it must be PTSD from birth… my birth. All that cutting and bleeding and creepy black stumpage falling off- that can scar a person for life! Somewhat literally if you think about what a bellybutton really is. Ew.
What really put me over the edge was my pregnancies. I never had a turkey timer bellybutton- the one that sticks farther and farther out the more pregnant you get. Mine did something weirder, and more disgusting. It got flat; and not just flat, but seemingly translucent. The only time it poked out was when I was trying to take a crap… that was horrifying enough on its own- but the flatter and wider around it got, the more irrational my fear of the non-button got.
I constantly had this paranoid feeling that if I ran into something the wrong way, or someone even touched the area where my innie used to be, that my innards would go spilling out all over the floor, baby included. It didn’t help that when either of the boys moved around inside of me- they tried to jab a knee or elbow out of that exact spot as if they knew that would be the way to get to me.
Ever since that point, my bellybutton has never been the same. It is sad, and loose, and I don’t even like to look at it.
And now it’s not just my navel that I have to deal with, but those of my kids too. What creeps me out more than a bellybutton itself is an OUTTIE bellybutton.
I love Parker to pieces, but he has the nastiest button i’ve ever seen. It’s not 100% out, only about 75%, but with his big Buddha belly, it protrudes from his abdomen like a creepy little extra finger; menacingly pointing at me, taunting me even.
To make matters worse, he finds no greater joy in life than to lift his shirt up and play with the thing- grinning maniacally as he does it.
It’s like the stopper behind a door.
Once Holden catches on to how uncomfortable Parker’s button-boinging makes me, he of course must join in on the fun. Two people flicking their bellybuttons simultaneously in front of me is something straight out of my nightmares.
There was one time our pediatrician jabbed her finger directly into Parker’s bellybutton and rooted around just to see if there was a chance that it could go back in- I swear I felt like I was going to pass out.
It has to be some kind of Karmic justice for bitching so much when I was pregnant with Parker that gave him the outtie of all outties. Is it weird that I wonder how he will ever get a girlfriend if he has a bellybutton that stares at people when he is shirtless?
I would say that a world without bellybuttons would be nice, but then I imagine how we’d look without them- and that is even weirder.
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.
Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.
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