In honor of Michael Phelps’ historic eighth single-session gold medal, I figured I’d take a dive into the proverbial pool. So for your reading enjoyment, here are eight things not normally found in the Olympics that I have mastered well-enough to earn me the gold.
- Drinking water. I know, everyone drinks water. This is an easy one. But honestly, I drink more water than anyone I know. I’m constantly drinking water. I feel uncomfortable if I don’t have a bottle of water on me. I know every kind of bottled water and could rank them for you in a second (perhaps a sub-skill). If there were a contest for the amount of water ingested in a day, I could totally bring home a world record.
- Laughing. Many people have seen me laugh and can attest to the fact that if I get a good one going, there’s no stopping me. I’ll often be seen laughing myself square into the midst of a full-blown asthma attack. Couple this with a beverage (water anyone?) and you have yourself a hardcore spectacle–that is, if I don’t die first. And I haven’t yet…
- Sleeping. I can sleep through a freight train coming through my bedroom window with Gilbert Godfrey as the conductor, yelling in my ear. In fact, one time, The Mister, wanting me to accompany him to the movies, attempted to wake me during a nap. He claims (and I have no reason to doubt) that he even went so far as to sit on top of me and literally lift my upper body off of the bed. I mumbled that I’d be right there and promptly fell back asleep. For nine more hours. Things that have gone on while I’ve been asleep: tornadoes, domestic disturbances, roller coasters, etc. Nothing can keep me from a good set of Zs.
- Being a sucker for animals. Even animals I don’t care for (read: rats, possums, etc.) hold a soft spot in my heart. I’m one of those people who in the midst of a national tragedy, feels worse for the pets left behind and other animals than the humans. Don’t ask me why, I just do. Perhaps it has something to do with their innocence or the fact that we control their destiny to begin with, but either way, if you want me to do something, throw an animal into the mix in the right direction and you’ve got yourself a deal. My pets eat better than I ever will. My betta fish swims in a $65 tank. Tell me who loves the animals?
- Smell. It’s a good thing I have a decent sense of smell. It makes up for my lack of good eyesight and hearing. I can smell something cooking a mile away. There’s a fire three miles from here? I’ve already smelled the burning for the past ten minutes–catch up! This is a double-edged sword, though. I can’t eat anything on or past an expiration date because of not only the mental anguish it puts me through, but the smallest hint of sourness leads me to cringe. Even products approaching a sell-by date are questionable. I didn’t eat a yogurt Saturday that went bad on Sunday. What does that tell you?
- Naming That Tune. Almost any radio station you turn to, I can tell you the song that is on within a few short notes. In fact, I can probably start singing (or rapping, as the case may be) right along with it in a matter of seconds. How do I know all of these songs? Music sticks to me like Sandra Day O’Connor at an ascot sale. It’s a gift.
- Getting Kids to Like Me. I have never met a kid that doesn’t love me. Why? Because I have that child-like spirit, a sense of what kids want, and an insatiable desire to please. Kids love that shit. They also love a self-deprecating sense of humor. Kids think it’s hilarious to hit me or make me fall…and I let them. A child’s appreciation is priceless. A few stitches are only a co-pay away.
- Sense of Timing. And I mean this in the “Murphy’s Law” way, not in a good way. When I got married last year, my Dad threatened to place me in bubble wrap for the week prior to my wedding and roll me down the aisle in a wagon to prevent injury. Nevertheless, I sprained my knee, had a cold and managed to scratch my eye so I couldn’t wear my contacts. This stuff has been going on forever. I was asked to emcee a major event in college. So I got the stomach flu for the first time in years. I had a major role in my last high school play and, alas (poor Yorrick), I tore the tendons in my ankle–leaving permanent damage, mind you. In fact, these things are so common Mr. CVD often responds with “that seems about right.” Too true.