I Am Making You Sneeze

I look at the mountains and tears start to roll down my cheeks and I smile, as I am trying to be more sensitive.

I am the mountain he is looking at and crying and smiling about - is he always like this? What an emotional wreck - how can you people stand that? Can't you find someone more normal to be friends with?

I am steaming broccoli because it is the right thing to do - the humidity was dangerously low.

Broccoli here! Enjoying a lovely steam bath. What? You say he is going to eat us?!?! I knew it! He had that look in his eye when he bought us from the store.

I colour outside the lines in my colouring book as I refuse to obey the rules - plus it is abundantly clear that I need glasses.

I am the drawing that he has so recklessly coloured in, on and around. Although he may feel badly now, he will forget about me in a few minutes, but I will be left here to suffer forever until I am put out of my misery at the recycling depot.

I water the garden on the morning of a hot summer's day greatly enjoying the smoothness of the hose - should probably go see my therapist again soon.

You know, I always felt there was something "off" about how he holds me, the hose. And that is saying a lot - I'm used to be held rigidly like an automatic rifle shooting water bullets at plants, juvenilely like something used to urinate with and even lovingly like we were twirling during a romantic slow dance. I could tolerate all of those, but, the way he held me...I guess I would call it a mixture of passive aggressive and patronizingly jovial, but what do I know from complex emotions, I'm just a hose.

I take the mammoth unabridged dictionary off the shelf with great gusto - I have no intent on reading it - that was all just for show.

If you are going to take me off the shelf, the least you can do is open me and learn something or maybe caress my binding or even a simple hug would suffice.

I am feeling out and out deflated right now- why did I choose to spend the afternoon blowing up all of those balloons after she left me?

Wheee!!!!! Wheeeeee!!!! Yahooooo!!!! It is so awesome floating in the air, not a care in the world, at the whim of the breeze. I mean until you've been an inflated balloon, you just haven't lived. And I should know, being a lifelong balloon and all. Not sure if it's an option for you, but if you can give the whole balloon thing a try, you just have to do it. 

I pace up and down in the hall and then decide to pace sideways using shuffling-type steps performed in a semi-crouch before I finally get your attention, as even you can't tune out my ridiculously distracting pacing.

Click, clack, click...I am those shoes, the ones that pace in the hall, the same ones you hear fast approaching in the darkness, I'm also the ones that follows you on deserted streets, and I'm the ones tap dancing on your grave in your nightmares...Ha ha ha! Got you! Had you going, didn't I? Relax - we are just your old, much-loved, sneakers in the front closet. Nothing to be worried about.

I eat a banana for breakfast every morning and I feel...proud?

Aye! As a proud banana from a long line of proud bananas, I can tell ye this. My great-grand pa used to place me on his knee and say "Ahoy matee. We bananas used to sail the seven seas and ruled when times were good. Yaarrr, those days were glorious and we have lived to tell the tale. Nary a banana will walk the tongue plank and be eaten, ye mark me words. We bananas will fight and no man will board us. Now where is me rum?" Did I mention, we are pirate bananas? I don't exactly know why - my great, grand pa was little off and drank way too much rum (everytime I asked dad how a banana even drinks rum, I got a smack that nearly opened my skin and made me prematurely brown and bruised). My ancestor thought he was a pirate and the rest of us just followed along - quit judging me.

I spend the weekend cleaning out my attic coming across prized family heirlooms, dusty photo albums and old Halloween costumes that cause me to laugh out loud - then I realized, I don't have an attic.

Who was that? How did he even get here? Here is what happened...he came up my stairs, he opened my door and....disturbed my dust! Will he come again? It has been years since I have felt so...loved.

I am working on a challenging math problem and although I love challenges and puzzles, it is just making me hungry for cake.

Soooo....stop doing the math problems? Duh! I'm just sayin'. As a card-carrying member of the cake, we don't love being eaten. Like it's not horrible, but it ain't that exciting for us. So, why don't you put down that math book and go enjoy some fresh air. Skip or run or do whatever you humans like to do. And if you must eat, eat some fresh fruit - sorry to be so frank, but do you really need another piece of me? Yeesh - can you get a load of this guy - sitting around doing math...and it's not like I'm just sitting around with a sign saying "Eat Me" - what? I am? Okay okay - bad example, but still. Stop Eating So Much Cake!

I can't stop sneezing and I am starting to think that something is making me sneeze - there is no way this is purely coincidental.

Sam Sneeze here. I am making you sneeze. I'm doing it now, I've done it before and I will do it again. Why do I do it? Does it serve any greater good? Is it part of some grand scheme or plan? Can I make it sound funnier and more cartoonish? Am I tight with Cameron Cough? All good questions, but I have no idea, I'm just a sneeze.

I have decided that I need to exclaim more often to get my point across, but I am having a hard time nailing the timber and inflection of exactly three exclamation points - any less wouldn't be forceful enough and any more would drive people away.

I am an exclamation point and contrary to popular belief, I enjoy quiet strolls on the beach, lazy Sunday morning brunches doing the crossword and romantic movies on the couch at home. I'm not sure where everyone got the idea that I am some loud and crazy guy hellbent for excitement and thrill. I'm more at home on a country ranch then a disco party and I prefer mild, subtle food then burn-your-nose-hair-off chili. I need a new PR guy. 

I am sitting watching a frog by the pond and get the shivers - just a pretty cold morning and the frog won't stop staring through me almost like he sees within my soul.

It gets old pretty fast. Odd-looking, constantly-shivering guys with nearly empty souls just sitting there staring at me. Where have all the good ones gone?