Monday, January 16, 2012

Being normal is OVERRATED



Or at least I think it is, having never been accused of being normal myself. That may sound like I'm joking. I'm not. Believe it or not, Mr. Snarky was not always the cool, well-adjusted, wise-ass that you all know and love. In fact, Mr. Snarky was quite the nerd in his formative years. Misunderstood, picked on and laughed at while wearing some really bad clothes that his mom picked out for him. Mr. Snarky getting picked on mostly stemmed from the fact that he was FAR from normal.

The reason I bring up normalcy is because of something a family member's friend is going through with their most definitely not-normal child. Now, normally (see what I did there?) Mr. Snarky doesn't take on serious subjects. This one is quite serious, so I won't get into too many details and will try to keep things lighthearted. This child, and also the child of the family member, which coincidentally makes her a family member too (Mr. Snarky doesn't like to tell people that he's a grandfather, even though he loves his grandchildren very much, because he doesn't want you to think he's old... so don't tell anyone) ummm, where was I? Oh yeah... both of these children have a chromosomal disorder and the family friend's child is having extremely serious health issues and needs life saving surgery which is presently being denied due to her disability. That was a mouthful and perhaps a little hard to comprehend... sorry. Those are all the details I will supply in this blog, but if you really want the rest of the story, which I truly hope you do, I'll post lots of links to it at the end.

Anyway, moving forward, here are some things Mr. Snarky has done in his life to prove how normal he is not. Yes, I know the sentence structure sucked right there. I don't care, but thanks for noticing.

I've done drunken jumping jacks at 3 am in the middle of one of the busiest roads in town. Thankfully, there were no cars coming at that hour. I'm more thankful that there wasn't a police car in the vicinity.

While in my 20's, I saved one of my best friends from drowning while my dad's fishing boat was sinking underneath us. I know, most people would probably do the same. The thing is, we were in about 2 feet of water.

A friend and I, the same one I was with for the jumping jacks, were in Toys R Us. We each grabbed up a Hoppity Horse...
(For those of you under thirty, this is a Hoppity Horse)

... and bounced around the store. We didn't stop until the store manager asked us if we weren't maybe a little too old to be playing with the toys. He was younger than we were at the time.

While sitting in class, especially in grade school, I tended to get bored and distracted easily. I was always able to follow what the teacher was saying even if I seemed like I wasn't paying attention. It drove many of them crazy. While bored, I tended to play with pencils, doodle, pretty normal things like that. I also tended to get my shoelaces tied around the post underneath the desk and fall down when it was time to go to lunch. Okay, once is not a tendency, but another time, I got my hands stuck in a hole in the back of my chair and had to cry out for help when I couldn't get them out. Many thanks are owed to Rod Connelly for taking care of that. I he hadn't helped, I might have had to have my arm amputated, and I'm pretty sure that would've sucked.

I have an extremely strong gag reflex. Mrs. Snarky finds this hilarious. She has laughed at me for choking half to death the first time I put my partial into my mouth; she was nearly doubled over laughing at me when I half-walked/half-ran out of the Elephant house at Lincoln Park zoo, gagging over the smell; she laughed so hard she cried when I stumbled my way out of the outhouse at the Redwood Forest, heaving over the foul stench that had filled my lungs. HA HA HA! Very funny! NOT!!!!

Once, while asleep, and obviously dreaming, I was lying on my side, facing away from Mrs. Snarky. I lifted my left arm into the air and loudly said, "1... 2... 3!" I rolled over onto my back and shouted, "I....CHOOSE... THIS!!!" I then reached over, grabbed her hand, and placed it straight on my crotch.

You get the point. I'm not normal. I'm fine with that.

Much love to all you abnormal people out there!
I hope you check out these links. Thanks! Mr. Snarky.


I wonder... If my Surgeon could've known how abnormal I would turn out, would he have taken the lump out of my throat in 9th grade? Just wondering. Thanks to all who made it this far!

1 comment:

  1. You make me laugh :D There's no such thing as normal.

    ReplyDelete

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