April
2006
Dear Timi3
I know it’s hard being the child of a mom who plays with crazy people’s heads. No, really, I do. All that clinical literature sitting on the shelves, all those medical journals for you to play with once you dig them out from under the coffee table .. but did you have to read that stuff and actually try it out?
A phobia won’t get you more choc’lit. Nor will it make mommy spray perfume on your tummy more often. And choosing as a phobic object the nailclipper, from all things, is a real faux pas. We need to clip your nails sometimes, even if you display your best impression of “Mom has beheaded my doll and threatens me with hot needles”. We know your voice can break glass if you scream long enough. We noticed that you can squirm and wiggle better than an octopus on crack. We painfully aknowledged the fact that you’re strong and have the kicking power of a mule - and we have the bruises to prove it. But we still need to clip your toenails.
So here’s my proposition - if you really feel you need to have a phobia, for that’s all the rage between today’s toddlers , so be it. But why not exchange the object of your fears from the nailclipper to, dunno, a Jet engine? Or a Hummer’s steering axle? Mommy promises she’ll let you freak out for as long as you want to whenever you’ll see one of those.