You're Not The Boss Of Me ...

I have an issue.

Okay, I have many issues – most of which will eventually become evident thru my blogging - but one in particular - I do not like to be bossed. I will avoid being bossed at pretty much all cost.

I believe this is a genetic trait because - I am pretty certain that no blood related female in my family has been bossed in any recent century.

Let me begin by clarifying – in case my boss ever stumbles onto this blog - that I am not referring to a boss/employee relationship. I respect the laws of seniority and one-up-man-ship that come with education, degrees and initials that sub sequentially get placed after your name.
So, Doctor _______… please, boss me at will.

I am also not referring to law enforcement personnel, judges, bailiffs, or laws and rules in general. If the bailiff tells me not to wear my hat or sunglasses while I am in the traffic court room - I will obey!

BUT:
• If you do not live in my house – do not tell me how to manage my time so that I can have enough hours to work out at the gym and have a body like yours.

• If you don’t have children in middle school, please don’t tell me how to get my child to “want to” do his homework and make good grades. Elementary school children are not the same as middle school teenagers - no matter what you think.

• If you haven’t been to dental school, don’t tell me that your child does not need another silver crown in his mouth.

• Just because your over 19 year old children aren’t inherently good – don’t try and convince me that mine aren’t.

• If I am late to work every single day for two weeks, (and you are not my boss), trust that I am well aware of my lateness and I hate it as much as you do.

• If I have strep throat on Monday, and my son gets strep throat on Wednesday, please don’t tell me when I am at your office again on Sunday - that my daughter’s sore throat and fever is just allergies and post nasal drip.

• If I say the tanning bed helps my attitude with life – don’t lecture me about the harmful effects of UV rays on my skin.

• If you’re drinking a Jim Beam and Coke – don’t tell me I should eat organic peanut butter. (In fact – no matter what you’re eating or drinking – never tell me to eat organic peanut butter).

Turn That Way

I consider myself a fast learner.  I was potty trained at a non-embarrassing age - rode a two-wheeler bike (sans training wheels) at about 3 years old - roller skating?  I'm sure at about the same age.  I learned to tie my shoe sometime before kindergarten - after my sister showed me only once.  Impressive? 

I like to think so. 

It is a real shame that there isn't a place on your resume for such items because sadly... no one cares!

While I'm admitting my prodigy-like childhood - I'll just go ahead and admit that there are a few things that I never learned.  I never learned to blow a bubble with bubble gum.  I know this seems trite, but really ... how difficult should this be to learn?  I distinctly remember when I was 9 - my best friend, Stephanie, tried to teach me to blow a bubble when I confessed to her - as best friends do - that I could not. 

After 20 minutes of failure - we decided to move on to whistling - which I could also NOT do.  I am excited to say that I can whistle now - even if only barely. 

There is still another thing that I never quite grasped.  I still struggle with it.  That would be: Left and Right.  I still marvel that my children picked this up so quickly -because I have had to come to terms with the fact that this task is never going to be something that I do not have to think hard about before answering or responding.  If you're not one to struggle with left and right - then you would have NO idea how often a person, like myself, has to knock down the panic and THINK about it. 

I have a few memories of how this problem has plagued me.  Bear with me while I painfully remember them.

• 
  
  
  I had a childhood friend who lived in the house to our left (Umm - yes! I had to think about it).  She was younger and ridiculously smarter than me.  When we would get together and play TWISTER, she would pull out colored ribbons and tie a red one on my right hand and foot and a green one on my left hand and foot.  When she would spin the spinner she never even bothered saying left or right ...she would just say - "Red hand on yellow". Yes ... someone had to "dumb down" TWISTER for the likes of me!
• 
  
  
  I rode the school bus when I was little.  Sometimes when you had to have a substitute bus driver, one of the kids would be asked to sit in the front and tell the driver the route and where to stop.  I happen to get off last so I was often picked for this task.  One particular little high school creep and substitute, bus driver, once yelled to the entire bus, "Does anybody on this bus know the route AND their left and right?  Because 'turn this way' is not really working for me."  I was mortified.  I would've gladly worn the ribbon bracelets!  Geez!
• 
  
  
  In high school, I was in marching band. My band instructor, Mr. Tommy Smith (totally unrelated side note: Mr. Smith was hot by anyone's standards)- would stand high on his band booster built tower to get an ariel view of our marching formations.  He would stop us at certain points to perfect the formation.  Thru the mega-phone he once yelled at me - "Amy - move one step to your left."  I tried to think but I just panicked - the combination of the not ever really understanding the concept of your left and my left and then the mega-phone and his hotness ... aaaaargh!  I just squinted my eyes and picked one of the two ways. It was incorrect and he then said, into the megaphone, "Good Amy, now take two steps to you other left.  I should add that I am sure in the four years I marched - this happened more than once and it never became any less painful.

I know you are wanting to tell me how you can hold up your thumb and pointer finger in the shape of an "L" and the one that is not backwards is your left hand ... "L" for left.  I'm here to tell you that this does not work for me.  Somehow, in the panic that comes from not knowing your left from your right,  I am also never able to tell which "L" is backwards. 

It's sad ... but I did finally find somewhat of a remedy.  Sometime during high school, I had a teacher who insisted that your name and block number be in the upper right hand corner of any work you turned in. If it wasn't - then she subtracted ten points.  Thankfully I only had to figure out where the upper right hand corner of the page was once and I was fine.  From this point on - anytime I had figure out a left or right - I visualized a large sheet of notebook paper - saw the upper right hand corner and VIOLA! Even if the response was slightly delayed - I could usually respond correctly.

Life concerning my left and right had become acceptable until my early thirty's when I began Dental Hygiene School.  Even if your are an expert at your left and right - dental school will challenge your intellect and thought processes concerning left and right. 

In dentistry you always refer to the patient's right or left - and I already mentioned that the concept your left being any different from my left makes absolutely no sense to me.  Additionally ... while the right side of the mouth will always be teeth numbers 1-8 and 25-32 ... on the x-ray viewbox - the right side of the mouth is on the left side of the viewbox. I think if I had known this prior to applying to dental school, it would have been enough to prevent me from doing it! 

  <--RIGHT -  LEFT-->

One day during dental school - while I was commiserating my right and left handicapped brain and what it had cost me in the way of a failing score on a certain anatomy test - my instructor said the following to me:

"You're just not spatial. Normally, I would see this as the red flag of failure in a dental student, but I believe you will be okay.  You will be able to make up for this deficit in your brain, with your mouth."

I'm still not really sure what she meant by making up for it with my mouth. I'm not sure I really wanted to know - I took it as a positive comment and ran.

Oh! - And I still can't blow a bubble gum bubble.