Wednesday, June 15, 2011

People Rarely Bite

I bit my nephew.  Grant.  He's 13.  And I bit him.  Not too hard.  There were teeth marks. No blood.  Coulda been worse.  That's how I look at it.

Don't worry.  I don't have a biting problem, per se. The bite occurred long ago.  It's been a full month.  A month is plenty of time for one to repent.  I can promise, without a shadow of a doubt, that I will totally refrain from biting another human being unless provoked.

I was lying on my parent's bed with my daughters and my Grant.  We ate pizza and watched that awful Justin Beiber movie.  I was curious about Beiber Fever. All those swooning, screaming teen fans. Thought I'd see what all the fuss was about.

"This movie sucks," said Grant.  "I hate Justin Beiber."

"It's almost over, buddy," I said.  "Let's just finish it."

"You said that, like, half an hour ago and he's still dancing around on stage.  I can't stand this guy.  His hair is stupid."

Grant was disgusted.

But I'm no quitter, folks!  I couldn't just turn the TV OFF for heaven's sake!  Where's your sense of commitment?!  Who do you think I am?!  No!!  I wouldn't abandon ship at the first hint of opposition! I would see this thing through.  

"We can't turn it off yet.  We have to finish what we started."

Grant had other plans.

Without warning he began tapping me very firmly in the middle of my forehead with a solid teenage finger.

I laughed at first.  I was thrilled he was rough housing with me like he would rough house with a friend.  A 13 year old friend!!  I wasn't his decrepit old Aunt Crystal!  NO!  NAY!  I was a friend!  It warmed my heart.

"Alright, Grant, knock it off now," I chuckled.

He laughed.

And tapped me between the eyes.



"Stop tapping my face, Grant."

My laughter became strained.  I felt a little anxious.



What if he NEVER stopped tapping?  Teenage boys can tap a good game for hours!  What if I emerged cross-eyed or brain damaged from this abuse?

I grabbed his wrists and tried to prevent further Chinese finger torture to my person.  I sat on him to ensure my safety.

Grant is quite large for his age.  His father is a solid 6'5.  Grant is well on his way to the Big and Tall store. Well on his way.

My attempts at saving myself were weak at best.  He tossed me about like a rag doll.  Then...



"OK Grant.  I'm serious.  Quit tapping my head!"




I thought I might go mad.

I was desperate.

"If you keep tapping my face I WILL bite you!"

He laughed heartily.  He saw my words as empty threats.



Quick as a flash.  Chomp.  I bit his hand.

He pulled it away sharply.  Stared at me in shock and awe.

"You BIT me!"

I laughed heartily.

"I warned you!  I TOLD you I would bite if you didn't quit!  I used to bite your mother for much lesser crimes when she was your age."

"I can't believe you bit me," he murmured, rubbing the affected area.  He was a cat licking a wound.

I could see he was mostly wounded in his heart.  The boy could never have foreseen this uncivilized turn of events.  How could he have known I was capable of such cruel brutality? I softened.

"I'm sorry I bit you, Grant."

I took his big, baby hand in mine and rubbed the teeth marks tenderly.  He eventually forgave my trespass against him.  (I'll bet he never taps me between the eyes again though.)

Are you a biter?  Maybe you pinch?  Or punch?  Or poke?

I remembered this event because tonight I had an important meeting with important church people regarding important stuff, like money and the definite location of girl's camp. I was real nervous.

I wasn't nervous because of the meeting itself. I can talk money and logistics all night long.  I was sorta nervous about The People.   The People freak me out a little.  I have a teeny tiny bit of social anxiety. My heart gets all racey when I know I gotta be social with people in a society of socially socializing people.

I think it's my mom's fault.  She is a highly functioning Autistic genius and she never let me have real friends over when I was a kid.  Only stray cats and dogs and books and siblings.  My siblings weren't stray.  But siblings don't count as real people.

We siblings had a very hard time fitting in at school.  My sisters actually ate their lunches in a bathroom stall many a day.

So when I know I have to be all smiley and small talk-y I freak a bit.  Once I'm actually in the presence of The People I'm unbelievably charming. (I think... Maybe I'm actually very creepy...)

People usually always love me, most of the time.

So I have to remind myself,

People don't bite, Crys.

But the fact is, some of us DO.