Friday, September 17, 2010


My friend Yen  wrote about fears on her blog, and it got me thinking. I used to have a phobia of plugging things in after I blew off the skin from 3 fingers. That's why hubby calls me Sparky. I'm over it now, but my breath still catches when a spark pops out while I'm plugging.

My son hasn't shown any prevalent fears yet, luckily. Maybe it's because he's a boy (I don't mean to be sexist, but they're REALLY different). I wish he'd be more afraid, really. Last week, he refused to leave the toy store so we left him there. I watched him through the window while Paul, Hero and the yayas went off to the restaurant. 20 mins later, he was still happily playing. I even had the salesman try to scare him, but no dice.

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