Stress Tests

I used to have a fear of my teeth exploding. You know, from extreme temperature changes. Like when you have a mouthful of lasagna straight from a hot oven and then grab a glass of ice water and chug it - that's an extreme temperature change. I figured that my teeth would shatter, much like a hot glass in cold water or soda can experiment. Very frightening stuff, when you're a spitefull youth, and even worse when it's (warning - this link has a popup) reinforced by cartoons! As everyone knows, cartoons always tell the truth.

So, when I was at my dentist last, I looked at the hygienist very seriously and asked her straight up, "Will my teeth shatter? Be truthful with me, because my teeth are very important to me." She give me a curious look, "Um... what do you mean, BP? Why would your teeth shatter?" I sit up in the pseudo leather operation chair and throw my hands to high heaven, "You know, like when a glass that's hot and then gets cold really fast, aren't teeth the same way? I've never mixed hot and cold foods because of that. I don't want my teeth to burst!"

She looks at me again like I've had too much morphine, and I'm seeing Elvis in my refrigerator. "No, BP. I don't think that's possible I've never had anyone schedule an appointment, or show up emergency wise with teeth that have exploded from hot coffee and ice cream." I ask her if she's serious, and then if I can ask the dentist to make double sure - it's always important to get a second opinion, especially if there's a chance of a mushroom cloud emerging from an oral detonation.

The dentist gave me the same 'you should be placed in a padded cell and viewed through a small window' look when I asked her. Even tho I feel a little better about their answers, I still don't mix hot and cold foods. Kind of funny how some fears aren't ever really vanquished.

On the other end of the spectrum are fears of external babbles. My friend Muscle Calves has an incredible fear of balloons. I didn't know this until I brought out my latest purchase - a fuscha box labeled "Super Loopy Balloons". It's a kit that shows you how to make balloon animals, which has always interested me, even tho I'm not part of a circus or a random person selling my skills to patrons of local restaurants during dinner.

I walk out into the dining room, bag in hand. "Hey guys! Look what I bought today! Isn't this so fun?" I pull the cardboard box from the bag, and Muscle Calves instinctively jumps up and out of the way, knocking his chair over. Even tho I'm across the room, fear wells up in his eyes, and he screams, "Get that thing away from me!!!!"

I take a step back. Then I hold the box up to him. He winces. "Are you ok, Muscle Calves? It's just a box of balloons." "BP, I've always had a fear of balloons. Sometimes at work, they have these shindigs where the room is full of balloons, and they're floating down the hallways. I go through the offices on those days, and take the stairs. I can't stand balloons. Keep those away, or I'll have to strangle you."

I rub my chin, considering options. I figure it's best to leave well enough alone, tho I'll leave the box next to my door if I don't want Muscle Calves in my room.