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Yes…I’m Afraid Of Eggshells

Yes…I’m Afraid of Eggshells

Everyone has their phobias. Some people are afraid of spiders. In Arizona, we have Tarantulas. Big, black, and furry. You can see them from a distance, which is where I stand when I see one. And yes, I’ve seen a Tarantula. In Jerome, one of Arizona’s historic towns, I spotted a Tarantula crossing the road (I know—that sounds like a set up for a gag). God only knows where the Tarantula was heading. I didn’t follow it. Now friends tell me, you needn’t travel far in Arizona to see a Tarantula. I say, talk like that makes folks want to move to Florida!

Eggshells

Not many people claim a fear of eggshells. But then, I’m not most people. Truth be told, this fear makes me worry over hardboiled eggs. I’m so concerned, that egg salad has been banned from our kitchen unless I personally handle the deshelling. Why you might ask, am I so distrusting? It could be because of my upbringing. The fact is, my mother couldn’t break an egg if her life depended on it. There always seemed to be an eggshell somewhere. Instead of calling her Mom, we should have changed her name to Shelly.

Fish Bones

Another pet peeve of mine is fish bones. No one wants to bite into a lovely piece of fish and discover a fishbone in their mouth. You could choke if you accidentally swallow it. But, it’s also considered indelicate during a meal to use one’s fingers to retrieve the bone. Instead, I grab my throat and make a loud, wretching noise. Others look away in horror. That’s when I spit the offending bone onto the plate. Problem solved!

Doomsday Clock

Certainly, there are more frightening things in life than Tarantulas, eggshells, and fishbones. I recently read that the World’s Doomsday Clock is now 100 seconds to midnight. Where’s Rod Serling when you need him? Which reminds me. With time running out, have you had a chance to read my novels The Intersect and After the Fall? It’s never too late you know. Until it is. Happy reading!

 

This Post Has 2 Comments
  1. Hmmmm. Eggshells? I agree that finding them in egg salad is horrifying, and when I make it, I’m particularly attentive to where all the little pieces go. But I think that’s more out of fear from, well, you know who, than anything else.

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