Chirky

Last night Roger and I had to have "the talk." For the past six weeks, we have
fought the epic battle of The Most Stubborn Of Us All. Last night we needed to
discuss resolution.

Each time I have gone into a particular restroom in our home, a certain magazine
has offended me with its brazen cover photo. I turn it upside down so that no
one else feels the way I do, and leave. Later, Roger goes into the bathroom,
sees the magazine that seems to have been carelessly tossed upside down, and he
flips it back to its rightful position.

The next time I enter the restroom, I immediately notice the magazine because
the image is JUMPING OUT AT ME like a diseased rat, just waiting for me to walk
past it so it can affix itself to me, sink its teeth into my leg, and infect me
with the bubonic plague. I exasperatedly turn the magazine BACK OVER with the
determination of a woman afraid of such bubonic-plague carrying rats, because I
CANNOT TAKE CARE OF BUSINESS, WHATEVER THAT BUSINESS MIGHT BE, WITH THIS PHOTOGRAPH STARING AT ME IN ALL ITS NAKED GLORY.

After six weeks of this silent battle, I decided to take the magazine and
sandwich it between other magazines in our livingroom, replacing it with a more
palatable publication like Reader's Digest and the latest Pottery Barn catalog.
Magazines that EVERYONE in this family can enjoy, free from paranoia.

Last night this was my discussion with Roger:

J: "By the way, I took that magazine out of the guest bathroom."
R: "Yeah, I noticed. Everytime I went in the restroom, it was facing upside
down."
J: "Ummm, Hello?!? I know! Everytime I went in there, you had turned it FACE UP, and I DIDN'T LIKE THE PICTURE, so I had to keep turning it upside down!"
R: "What was wrong with it?"
J: "It's creepy! Everytime I see it facing up, I am certain that the giant,
hairy, black thing on the cover is about to leap off the page, suction itself to my back, and start injecting its venomous fangs into my back.

"And then, its legs would start to fuse to my back, like that "bug" in the
Matrix when it buried itself inside Neo's belly button, and soon its whole
body would be under my skin, crawling around, eating cheetos, and I would be
able to see its lump and feel it crawling around on my back and down my arms. I
get creeped out just thinking about it!

"At least if I turn the magazine upside down, it tricks me into thinking that
I've squished it, and then I don't have to worry about it jumping onto me.
Unless, of course, I didn't REALLY kill it when I squished it, and it crept out
from underneath the magazine and started crawling into my hair!

"Roger! Can you imagine if it were crawling into my hair? IT WOULD BE ABSOLUTE
TORTURE!"

This, among other reasons, is why I would never make it as a special agent in
the FBI.