You know what I hate? Tickling. That's right. As in, "I'm going to poke my rigid fingers into your armpits and make you squeal" type tickling. Yes, I know that tickling is "fun" and "cute" and "game-like" and that children seem to "enjoy" it. But come on, children also enjoy eating Play-Dough and wiping their own shit on the walls. Nuff said.
The deal is that I suffer from an ailment called hyper-ticklitis. It's a serious disorder. It can cause heart attacks, nervous breakdowns, blood clots to the brain, and, in severe cases, peed-on panties. My husband has been exploiting my condition for the past 10 years, and he's recently certified my children in "mommy tickle torture" as well.
They think it's funny when they tickle me. Why? Because I laugh hysterically. I roar. I howl. I chortle. Yet I'm miserable. There is no worse torture. But my loved ones don't understand this. Because I'm laughing. He he. Laughing. What we do when we're IN A GOOD MOOD. Talk about a mixed message! Now I know how date rapists feel.
I'm pretty sure God was drunk when he hard-wired our bodies to crack up when being tortured. Oh well. I'll cut the guy some slack; he did only have seven days.
Nevertheless, I stand by my opinion that tickling sucks. When my husband rubs his harsh 5-o-clock shadow all over my tender neck and I roar so loud the house shakes, contrary to what he likes to believe, we're not bonding. Meanwhile, he's convinced I like it. Convinced it's therapeutic. Hearty laughter and a thorough pants-pissing. That must be good for me.
3 comments:
I'm with ya there...at first it's OK. But then he really gets going and then it's too much to take and then I'm laughing too much and my abs hurt and I can't breathe and I'm about to pee my pants and he will not believe me that I'm in my own fiery hell at that moment. Won't...can't.
Let's face it. People who tickle are sadists. That is all it can be. Laughing is a stress response, as weird as that sounds. I go for a treatment for my achilles that hurts so much I laugh! Yes, laugh. I would feel strange crying in front of the sadist. M
Itchy -- I hear ya loud and clear. Husbands truly are clueless.
Pie -- I love your metaphor of karaoke. Since we have no biological need for "the tickles," why haven't they gone away like the tails we humans used to have?
Momma -- maybe this explains some things in my genetic makeup. It sounds as if you're to blame.
Post a Comment