Archive for March 3, 2009

Fearing the Offering Plate

As children we are fed many bits of information. Some true. Some not so true. Some bits of information are omitted completely. If we fall asleep with gum in our mouths, will we really get gum in our hair? What if we swallow it? Will it be stuck in our system for 7 years? Should we even chew it to begin with or will it rot our teeth? And now, as an adult, how do you feel about this? Obviously we don’t go to sleep with gum in our mouths and I’d hope that most of you don’t make a habit out of swallowing gum. But there are many bits of information (or lack thereof) that effect us.


Just the other night I was playing Chipmunk Chase during therapy. It’s actually a creepy looking game. There are these three giant chipmunks that run out and open a scroll. On the scroll is either an E or an arrow. Whichever direction it is facing, I have to push the corresponding arrow. Then the chipmunk will run away, leaving a nut behind. Most of the nuts were pretty standard looking nuts. Then there was this metal thing. And one night I was like, “Ah ha! I get it! Nuts and bolts! That’s a bolt!” I gave myself a little “hip hip hooray” for being so clever. When I was playing the other night Stephen came in to check on me. He looked at the screen and was like, “Ha! Clever. Nuts.” Trying to maintain my concentration, I scowled and said, “What? I thought those were bolts. Like nuts and bolts, you know?” You know, like maybe I can convince him that I actually know the difference between a nut and a bolt… “Um no Chelsea. Those are nuts. Not bolts.” Oops.


This is only the beginning. I have many stories that make me question how I ever got a sane man to agree to marry me. The sad part is how these effect you for the rest of your life. Examples following:


-I can remember the first time I saw Catch Me If You Can. Remember the part when Leonardo DiCaprio is pretending to be a doctor? One of the other doctors says something and asks, “Well, do you concur?” And Leo replies, “I concur.” Now I wasn’t that young when this movie came out. But I had no idea what “concur” meant. By context clues I knew it meant either “understand” or “agree”…. to this day, I can never remember which one. I never use the word. And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t either. Once the word comes out of your mouth, I no longer pay attention to what you’re saying. I just try to figure out if you’re meaning to agree or understand.


-My dad keeps this silver radio in the bathroom by his sink. Every morning he turns it on as he’s shaving and getting ready. I hate this radio. Actually, I loathe this radio. One time when I was little, I was taking a shower in their bathroom. I had to have been only about 6 because we had a babysitter and she was in the bathroom with me. When I was drying off she had to run into the other room for something and said, “Okay, I’ll be right back. DO NOT touch that radio or it will electrocute you.” I still have not touched it.


-I was born and raised in a good church-going family. Every Sunday when I was little, I’d get dressed up in a nice dress, socks with ruffles, and shoes that were uncomfortable. Then I’d go to church and since quietly in the pew with my family. Every week they’d pass the offering plate and every week I’d watch it go by. At one point in my childhood, my mom told me that I can’t touch it because if I do, everything will fly out. Obviously she meant that the plate was heavy and since I was small, it would be hard for me to hold it. And she was right, there was a great chance that I would drop it. However, I did not see it that way. I thought that if I touched it, everything would literally fly out of the plate as if I’d turned on an enormous fan underneath the plate. I realized how much this effected me two weeks ago when Stephen got mad at how quickly I grabbed the offering plate out of his hands. He wasn’t even holding the rim! He had his hand on the bottom. That plate could teeter over any second, leaving envelopes, cards, and coins all over the place. In my mind, I’m just trying to prevent a catastrophe. In all actuality, I have a deep rooted fear of the offering plate. I was just trying to save my wonderful husband from falling victim to it’s tricky ways.


I recently told my parents about my fear of the radio. They had no idea. I will take this bit of wisdom into parenthood. I will do my best to not say blanket statements that may scar my children for the rest of their lives. But I will never, ever let them touch their grandpa’s silver radio.

March 3, 2009 at 10:34 am 14 comments


March 2009


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