Alyssa asked me last night if I take myself too seriously.
Ha. Hahahahaha. Oh, how I laughed.
Then, when I got myself back under control, I asked her who sat at the computer desk mere hours before caterwauling about being rubbed the right way?
Yes, I was singing a Christina Aguilera song. But I’d taken the sexual connotation out of it. My neck hurt and I just wanted someone, ANYONE, to rub it and make it feel a little better. Heck, even Liv’s weak little hands helped a little when she deigned to come up to me and nudge my neck with the back of her hand for three seconds.
By the time we sat down to dinner, everyone, including me was tired of my whining. I sat at the end of the table with my face in my hands, looking miserable and quite possibly insane. Alyssa asked, “What is wrong with you?”
Tom, from across the room, said, “She’s having a meltdown.”
Which, yes. I believe I was. And yet I was aware of how ridiculous it all was even in the middle of my meltdown. I managed to pull myself together enough to finish dinner and even do the dishes. But damn, I really wish someone in my family would take my requests for a neck rub seriously. I supposed if I were to just ask, you know, in a normal sort of voice, instead of wailing for all the world to hear, they might actually listen and react appropriately.
But back to Lyss’s question…no, I don’t think, most of the time, I take myself too seriously.
Where did this question come from, you ask? Why, let me tell you!
A few weeks ago she asked why I let her watch Z Nation, a zombie show that airs on the Sci-Fi network, but I won’t let her watch The Walking Dead or Fear the Walking Dead.
I tried to explain to her that I let her watch Z Nation because it’s a show that doesn’t take itself seriously. I mean, come on, it’s a show that has glow in the dark zombies, for Pete Sakes. And there’s a dude in trapped in the arctic circle with only a dog for a companion who talks to the survivors via police radio and other cobbled together devices. It’s all kinds of awesome.
On the other hand, the Walking Dead shows take themselves WAY too seriously, which is why they’re scarier and less likely to be approved by this mom for her twelve-year-old to watch. There is so much more psychological horror on those shows than zombie issues.
But I admit to enjoying all the shows mentioned above. I get a laugh out of Z Nation and I get delicious chills of terror from the Walking Dead shows. It’s sort of like Hannibal. That show was gruesome and so very serious and yet beautiful and artistic. It took itself way too seriously and it was awesome.
So okay, there may be times when I take myself too seriously (last Friday’s post about suffocating on monotony? Yes, a bit too serious.) but I’d like to think that I also make fun of myself on a regular basis, even in the middle of melting down. I mean, come on, anyone who sits around warbling about being a genie in a bottle can’t be taking themselves too seriously, right? Right.