Neva Scared

This is my 100th blog post! I was so excited because I wanted to do something exciting and fun...but about a week went by and I had nothing. I thought of a list of a hundred somethings...but who wants to read a list that long?!? Well yesterday Sabra and I were just chatting and what do you know she had an idea for a post and it was perfect for my big 100. Here it is...

Growing up as a child I feel it is only natural that you become deathly afraid of your parents at one point or another...they aren't doing there job if you always feel safe...especially if you pulled some of the shenanigans I did. I remember two specific times that I was scared for my life...LITERALLY. I am pretty sure both happened in the last few months that I was living at home before I went to college...I guess I had to get as many digs in to my father as I could.

The first was when we were discussing the issue of taking the car back to Pennsylvania with me when I went to college. Of course I wanted to take it with me...I had only been driving it a year. All our arguments on this topic were heated...I suppose most conversations with my father are like that (if you know anything about our two personalities and how they don't go together well). Anyways, one particular argument we were arguing at the dining room table and I am not quite sure what I said but I had never seen my father get up and move so quickly towards me. Now he is a 6'3ish man over 200lbs...my point is to see this man bolting at you will scare the poop out of you. I ran down the hall as fast as I could while he was yelling and chasing me down. I thought I was done for...I ran to the farthest corner of my room, on my bed, screaming for my mother to save me and my father to not hurt me. He came up to my door, yelled something at me, and then shut it. He never crossed the invisible line that was at my doorway...thank you Jesus! I find it funny because Sabra recalls him getting mad at her and yet never crossed the bedroom door either. So whatever it was that made him stop at our doorway I am grateful!

The second time was over that summer before I left. I was told that upon my arrival to school the basketball team does a 45 minute run...no stopping or you have to train in the AM for a week and try it again. If anyone knows anything about me I am not a runner. So mom and dad thought it would be a great idea for me to train over the summer so I would be prepared. Umm...running during the summer in Yuma...I don't think so. So the night before my first day of training with my father I moved my dresser in front of my bedroom door...no one was waking me up at 6 a.m. and definitely not to go running. Well if you can imagine what a parent does when they go to open a door in their house and a large object is blocking them from doing so...imagine that times like 100 because it is my dad. He was slamming it against my dresser yelling and threatening me to get up and move it. I thought I could sleep through him trying to open the door but after hearing him I thought two things, (1) My dresser was going to be destroyed and (2) Once he got past it I was dead. He eventually gave up but told me this wasn't over...I wasn't going to ever leave the safety of my room for the rest of my life. I don't think we ever talked about it after that morning and he never tried to wake me up early to train again either.

Those stories always make me smile and make Sabra laugh...I was an idiot and always tried to push him to his limits. I guess I was lucky most of the time.


I just finished The Gargoyle and suggest it for everyone. It was such a great book with interesting concepts on life and love. It was perfect. I loved the characters and how such different people that were so messed up could help each other learn to live with what happens in life and to love each other through it all...brilliant!