What You Don’t Know…

Have you seen this thing going around Facebook lately where someone gives you a number and you post things most people probably don’t know about you? It makes me think about elementary school, when you had a secret you didn’t want anyone to know, and then one kid found out and broadcasted it throughout the entire school, so you were humiliated in front of everyone. From then on you worked harder to keep whatever other secrets you had actually secret. You would have been mortified if anyone found out those other skeletons in your closet. And now here we are telling all of our 685 Facebook friends those same tidbits of information under the guise of being “cool enough” about those things for them to not matter anymore. But there is such a thing as oversharing, and people tend to do that when given their number in this FB game. My number was 8…

1. I overthink most things.

When faced with two possibilities I spend way too long focusing on one, then the other, and back again. If someone asks me to decide on a restaurant for us to eat lunch, and they don’t hurry me along, I will still be deciding at 7 o’clock in the evening  if given the chance. Yet, I cultivate the appearance of nonchalance for the world to see, going with a quick choice and then second-guessing myself forever. Amazingly enough, though, that overthinking doesn’t bleed over into making choices for my fantasy football team. Hmmm.

2. I wet the bed until I was 13.

This is classic oversharing, because absolutely no one needed to know when I stopped wetting the bed, except that I’m proud of it actually stopping at some point. I honestly thought it would go on forever. So, when I’m lamenting the fact that my youngest child is not yet potty-trained, I remember being 13 and wetting the bed, and I’m good with it.

3. I blamed #2 on everyone but myself.

You have to know my family to appreciate this one, but one time during a family get-together (where we all traveled from far and wide to converge on one family members’ house for the holidays) we would all have to share sleeping arrangements. I was bunking on the pull out couch with my great-uncle and I wet the bed. When I woke up in the morning I immediately blamed it on him, thinking I would get away with it. Not quite.

4. I would drink egg nog all year long if I could.

For someone who absolutely hates the taste of eggs and won’t eat French toast that tastes too much like eggs, it’s amazing how much I adore egg nog. When fall comes that’s the first thing I’m waiting for, and I stock up on it, too, especially when December is almost over because I know the egg nog revolution will also soon be coming to an end. When I was a kid the only egg nog available to us during that time period was the kind in a yellow can, so I was always looking for that yellow can in the grocery store. I would leap for joy when I found it, and cry when it disappeared. My wife claims she will make me homemade egg nog to last me during the rest of the year. I have yet to see it.

5. I do dream analysis.

What I love about this one is that it inspired the most responses from my FB friends, all wanting me to analyze their wacky dreams. I honestly used to interview others about their dreams and provide them with a written analysis that was as in-depth as they wanted it to be. I guess I could have charged for it because I was usually right about their fears and apprehensions, and usually their dreams were about those things, but I didn’t go there. Maybe I’ll get back into it someday.

6. I have a Pooh Bear coffee mug.

This one was for everyone who hasn’t been at my house ever. If you’ve even been at my house once you’ve seen the Pooh coffee mug, and I love it to death. My wife (then “girlfriend”) got it for me on the occasion of my 25th birthday and it has survived all these years. It still remains my favorite mug, even though it’s a bit weathered, and I still use it all the time. Oh, and it’s HUGE, also a bonus when drinking my dark blend.

7. I used to sleep walk.

I enjoy telling the story of the time I walked down the stairs and out the front door, completely asleep, in the middle of winter when snow was on the ground. I only woke up when my feet touched the ice cold snow on the porch, and was so shocked by the experience that I began crying. My mom started locking the deadbolt shortly thereafter, I guess to keep me out of the street. Ironically I haven’t had an episode like that since.

8. I never trick-or-treated as a kid.

And I was so upset by this. A holiday that was supposed to be for kids, and the whole time I was a kid I wasn’t able to do it because my mom said it honored the devil and devil-worship. We weren’t allowed to argue with that in our household so it stuck, but we still kept it in the back of our minds. Eventually in high school we were able to trick-or-treat one year as the “hat squad” because we weren’t able to get costumes and wore ballcaps instead. It was all good. We got a lot of candy. Now of course I trick-or-treat every year with my kids.

But yeah, please don’t tell anyone else that I wet the bed until I was 13. Thanks. I knew I could trust you.

Sam