An epic battle.
Of the many phrases uttered by parents around the world, I imagine “DON’TTOUCHTHAT!” most certainly transcends all race, creed, and/or sexual orientation.
This warning reverberated through my head on my way to work the other day, clanging loudly against my senses as I came to an abrupt stop in front of this molted feather.
“DON’TTOUCHTHAT!” My imagination’s representation of my ma’ screeched, hurling herself out my ear and onto my shoulder.
“GRAB IT!” My subconscious countered, his demands echoing around my cerebellum, threatening to dislodge figment Momma from her perch. “RUB IT ON YOUR FACE!” My Id continued to shriek.
*Poof!* There went mah momma. But despite her absence, fearful visions of the Avian Flu sunk their talons into every lobe of my brain. As did the final scene in “The Birds.” And the (JJ) fact that sparrows have been known to peck humans to death.
“Good Gawd, man. Pick it UP, already,” my inner monologue was getting impatient. I had (personal) emails to reply to, iced coffee to drink before the last cube had dissolved. I didn’t have time to stand here and debate picking up this potentially disease ridden feather. What the heck was I going to do with it after I finished caressing my pores? Throw it away as my face flushed with an embarrassed blush or an uncomfortable rash, most likely; yet, of which outcome I could not be sure.
That uncertainty was enough for me. “WOO! Shake it off.” My Ego was back in control. Nurture had taken the lead.
“SUCK IT!” My miniaturized, maternal mirage spat back at nature, resting her chin against her palms in a rather jaunty fashion. “Heh, we showed him.” She snuffed.
Parents sure are smug when presented with proof positive that some of their programming, I mean values, VALUES, have stuck. Yes, rest assured while the nurturing matriarch of the Wienkers family may not have the resilient molting ability of the Avian species or the cyclical immortality of the phoenix, twigs and berries of her wisdom shall live on in the lobes of her spawns’ spawn and their spawns’ spawn and so on and so on. Sorry nature.
That means you too, tooth decay. No stranger to flossing here.
