On Being A Chicken-Shit Scaredy Cat

I don’t know when it happened. This whole me-being-a-scaredy-cat thing. It seems to have gradually snuck up on me. I’m not fearless and I really don’t like being scared.

I can’t watch scary movies. It’s not fun. I don’t dig it. In fact, Scream is about as scary as I could handle. Texas Chain Saw Massacre? Couldn’t do it. Just couldn’t. That panicky feeling that I get from watching a suspense-filled movie? Can’t cope.

Can’t do rollercoasters. Can’t even do the spinning teacups. Got so panicked on the teacups that my Kid started screaming and crying. Thought I was going to diieeee on the Log Ride at Gold Reef City. May have even peed myself a little and definitely had a little sob once the ride was over.

I don’t like being scared. I don’t know if it’s a since-I’ve-been-a-mom thing, or a since-forever thing, but honestly – I don’t get why people PAY MONEY to be scared. I don’t wanna.

I reached an all-time cowardly low this morning. Am actually snorting hysterically (read: panicked laughter) as I think about it. I walked down the passage to discover The Toffee playing on the rug. He was quiet, content and very absorbed in what he had in his hand. I looked closer. It had legs and feelers.


I did the only logical thing I could think of. I screamed and ran. I shrieked so loud that my husband came running, convinced that the end of the world was nigh. Or something. I shrieked so hard that my Kid started screaming and burst into tears, too. I can’t remember what I shrieked at my husband – UUUUUUUUGH IT’S A PARKTOWN PRAWN. AAARGH. TRAVIS IS TOUCHING IT. AAAARGH (was probably it) but he calmly removed the offensive creeper from The Toffee’s hand and deposited it safely outside.

The Toffee was pissed he’d had his toy taken away, and The Kid needed a hug to calm down and my husband was once again completely gobsmacked at what a bangbroek (scaredycat) pansy he’d married.

I didn’t even hang around to watch my husband remove the bug from the house – I’m always too scared he’s going to think it’s funny to chase me around with it, and that he might (HEAVEN FORBID) throw it at me and it MIGHT TOUCH ME.

It would seem my maternal instinct to protect my children does not extend to Parktown prawns. Or amusement park rides. Hell no. In these circumstances, it’s every man (woman and child) for himself.



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5 Responses to On Being A Chicken-Shit Scaredy Cat

  1. Rox says:

    You do not want to live in the countryside then, like ever. Then again, I had a list of ‘scares’ a mile long once, which ranged from giant poodles (still don’t like them) to clowns, detached yet-yet-moving lizard tails (will still run away, shrieking), roaches, failure, change, etc etc. In the few months I have been living out here in the Boland, ALONE I might add, in a possibly haunted, very old national monument, I have had to deal with many of those fears, and quickly.

    My biggest fear was not a tangible one, but failure and change got a double deal with I opted to run away from burnout to living in my parent’s future retirement investment, a whole hour and a half away from everything I considered familiar. Well, aside from my siblings and the odd visit from folks. But then I discovered that I had actually freed myself from stress, and maybe it was not failure but actually the next-dreaded-thing, change. Guess what though – when you let all the shit go and move away from home, change is not so bad either.

    This is a long comment, I know, but now we get to the good stuff. There is a certain type of critter here – an arachnid – known as red roman/sun spider (not a spider; actual name ‘solifugid’). These things look like mutated, MOERSE ants crossed with some sort of fuzzy, eight legged monster made from fluffy pipe cleaners. We get them here in summer, quite often, and they are big. They put things into perspective, hugely. Then, there are the country cats who bring in the most horrendous things ever, and the flying ants, and weird noises, and the funny feeling I get when I go past the aloe near the gate. It is SO QUIET. Surely going to sleep with windows open is inviting in serial killers and baddies?! Small town crimes are the worst of all – we all know that from horrors! This was a running theme of mine to the point where I would lock my bedroom door at night more times than I care to admit.

    Fast forward to now, and I sleep with most windows open. I sleep even if I have seen a solifugid in the area, and I don’t open my eyes and turn on the light when I hear noises. I don’t look towards the weird spot by the gate, and I hardly ever lock my bedroom door anymore. My drunk dad who was visiting a few weeks ago told me I had become a man. I might even stop shrieking at those zombie lizard tails soon.

    Point: it comes and goes in phases. Often, it is not even so much the things that scare us, but the fear itself (I stole that from some famous person, Churchill maybe?) And as a mom, maybe you are just more aware of all the scary things/fear than you were before?

  2. acidicice says:

    I think it is a combination of growing older and becoming a mother. I have become more and more risk averse as time has gone on. I had a good chuckle at your story though, my reaction would have been similar. I don’t have a husband to save me though. The one time one of those big rain spiders got into our house my grandfather had to drive over to retrieve it because we couldn’t even be in the same room as the spider. So screwed.
    acidicice´s last blog post ..Hoo Hoo!

  3. Po says:

    Ugh yes, Rox, those Kalahari ferarri “solifuges”are the bane of my life. They make spiders look like pansies. And they are lightning fast. I ended up in a tent witha a baby one once. Arrrgh.

    However I have generally become a lot more risk averse as I have gotten older too, so maybe it is a trend.

  4. Angel says:

    I don’t like being frightened either – scary movies and roller coasters and such, can’t and won’t… But I’ve been like that all my life. I never took risks – I didn’t climb trees or try stunts on my bike or roller skates, even when my friends and siblings were doing it all.
    I can handle most bugs though, except flying ants and cockroaches.
    Angel´s last blog post ..It Was Time.

  5. deborah says:

    definately a mommy thing! Growing up I had no fear-would jump off the piers,go on the roller coasters and stuff now as a mom Im petrefied of those things and definately the creepy crawlies freak me out! And now my 7 year old daughter wants a bearde dragon as a pet

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