The constriction of the safety restraints is one of many reasons why I wasn't a Formula 1 driver
I'd been lying still on the couch reading my Twitter feed and the links it provided for at least 10 minutes when Marnie, my youngest cat child, climbed onto the couch, walked on my legs and up my body to rest on my chest and knead my neck. The moment her paws hit my knees, as I knew she was headed for a long haul of love, I felt it. I was suddenly aware of a wedgie.
It wasn't a complete, turning ones regular, sensible underwear into a stupid thong type wedgie. Just the kind where the elastic on one side is about an inch out of place creating an ever so slight bunching feeling.
Marnie kneads me.
But I had not moved. This wedgie did not just happened. There is something about the moment you find yourself in a position where you can't move for a while that your body throws itself into a state of panic looking for anything out of place. It's like a surprise guest just arrived at the door. There's no time! Is the bathroom clean? Are there blankets strewn all over the couch? Did we scratch that itch on our ankle? Is the elastic of our underwear in its rightful place?
With the cat in its position, purring and giving you, the ever needy cat owner, the assurance that you are in fact loved, you dare not move. It's as though one's brain is trying to win a battle to see who you care about more. Who will you appease? The cat? The seven grocery bags that you managed to hold at once? The roller coaster safety barrier? It's as though your body gives you the itch, wedgie or sudden urge to urinate just to assert its power.
From zero to pant wetting the moment restraint is applied.
Once you become aware of the disturbance it's all you can think about. The harder it is to rectify, the harder it is to ignore. Marnie is a pretty affable cat so I could make an adjustment without a great risk of her taking her love elsewhere. Birdsworth on the other hand, being so fickle, when he decides to climb on me, because I have to be extra still so naturally every possible discomfort hits me at once. If I move he wont stand for it and so the problems start. Ahhhh! The disturbance wont stop! It itches! I suddenly have to piss out a gallon! The wedgie is getting deeper, I'm sure of it! I'll just gently address it....and the cat is gone. Body wins.
Cat's gone, but ahhhhhhhhhh!
The roller coaster may be the absolute worst for this kind of situation. I can always chase after the cat or expect them to come back another time, but in the case of the roller coaster I am pressed down tightly and barely able to touch the side of my calves. Hmmmm, while we're in that region, I notice my sock is suddenly all bunched up in my shoe. God, that's so uncomfortable. How have I been walking around for hours without this bothering me? Well it shouldn't matter now. I'm just sitting here. But God, I can feel it. It's the most uncomfortable position I have ever been in in my life. Oh my God, I can't move. I cannot get to my sock. I cannot undo my shoe. I'm trapped!
For the duration of the roller coaster ride, I am able to ignore it and the fact that I am trapped and unable to make right all the simple wrongs with my body that I'm experiencing. Once the adrenaline wanes, I am able to think about my sock again but since the ride is over, I feel pretty good about the whole thing. I'm moments away from being able to fix that sock. Oh hello, there's a hold up. Ugh, all the cars are backed up. We're just sitting here. Why aren't they unloading us? Don't they know my sock needs urgent attention! It happening in the other foot too! I thought once they picked the cotton it was DEAD! Why is it able to move? GET ME OFF!!!
My heart races as I write this. Makes me think I'll never again be able to ride a roller coaster again with socks, but I know my body will find something else to assert its power.
Me, realising there's a good 90 seconds before I can address my sock.