Tag! I’m It!

Well, I got tagged by Carolyn and since I’m insanely trying to get ready for a baby shower tomorrow, I’ll go ahead and share with you six unimportant things about myself. This is harder than I imagined because really, not a single thing about me is unimportant. Seriously.

1. I did not learn how to swallow pills until I was 18 years old. Honestly, I could not do it. I would gag every time I tried. As a result, I had (maybe still have) a really high tolerance for pain. If I was really hurting, I might chew some plain aspirin, which tastes like shit if you haven’t tried it. Even now, I can only swallow pills that are fairly small. In the hospital after I had Bridget, my pain relief choices were narcotics or ibuprofen. I was having trouble nursing, so I didn’t want to make it even harder by looping myself up on narcotics, so I chose ibuprofen. Unfortunately that pill was the size of VW Beetle. So I made the nurses crush it up and put it in juice for me.

2. I can’t burp. I mean, I do occasionally, but never on purpose or when I really want to. If I drink too many carbonated drinks, I get really bloated and then I get hiccups. That sucks because I really like beer, but I usually can’t drink more than two before I am pretty miserable.

3. I am horrible at estimating distance. I have no idea in my head what an inch or a foot or a yard looks like. Obviously I know how to read a ruler or a tape measure, but to look at an object, I couldn’t guess how big it is or how far away from something I am. When I started running last fall, I was shocked to see how far a mile really is.

4. I’m a very non-confrontational person and will go to great lengths to avoid unpleasant interactions in my real life, but I am a horribly aggressive driver. I guess we know where all that pent up hostility goes.

5. I was a grown adult (and I mean more than just a couple of years out of college) before I finally got that Christmas song “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” Before it finally dawned on me, I just thought it was a really horrible song.

6. I have absolutely no idea how on earth to fold a fitted sheet. No clue. I try and then get frustrated and end up wadding the damn thing up in a ball. As a result my sheets are always wrinkled.

I’m too tired and lazy to tag anyone, but if you are so inclined, consider yourself tagged.

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