Sunday, December 23, 2007


Bethanyism (Beh.thah.nee.ism): N. A reflex Bethany cannot control. An action Bethany takes that may cause others to smack their own heads. The act may be considered adorable or repulsive depending on the angle in which the action is viewed or of whom it is viewed by.

EXHIBIT A: Bethany has just finished a saucy plate of lasagna. She utilized her knife and fork in proper order and liberally employed her napkin.

Still, Bethany has managed to leave the table looking as though she has just had a marinara sponge bath. Tomato sauce is in her hair, her eyebrows, and in wedged in the most intimate crevices of her belly button. How the belly button happened is anyone’s guess—after all, Bethany is wearing a turtlenecked unitard.

EXHIBIT B: Bethany has emerged from the shower. She has wrapped herself in a towel, walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water and to the bedroom to put on a fresh pair of jammies.

Little did Bethany know, however, that while shaving in the shower she also managed to sever a particularly juicy artery above her ankle. Blood is now splattered across the carpet, walls, and all over the toaster oven. Bethany has yet to notice the mess or figure out why she is feeling so very dizzy.

Anyone who knows me well is now nodding their head violently. They have witnessed a billion Bethanyisms first hand.

Pregnancy seems to be a good excuse for my inevitable “isms.”

Yes, I did drool three tablespoons of saliva all over the pulpit while giving the opening prayer in sacrament meeting, but pregnant people have overactive salivary glands. I thought everyone knew that.

Sure, I left my curling iron on and only remembered the infraction while on the airplane to Utah. But pregnant people forget stuff. Duh.

Inside I know the truth, though. Regardless of my motherly state, I would (and have) drooled at the pulpit. Pregnant or not, I spill stuff and do ditzy things. And I get large pieces of meat, roughage, and farmyard machinery stuck in my teeth on a regular basis.

But in my own defense I would like to say that pregnancy does magnify these Bethanyisms.

When spilling things nowadays, I have a far larger surface area to desecrate. Also, the placenta produces a sort of magnetic chemical that attracts substances, particularly drool or concoctions that stain, right to the stomach area. Betcha didn’t know that.

This morning, post-shower, I was blow-drying my hair. Suddenly, I felt something tapping at my leg. I looked down, only to see that my two year old dabbing away at a bleeding knick on my leg with a little piece of toilet paper. I thought it was so funny, and sad, that he took it upon himself to nurse my wound and spare our carpet from another “Bethanyism.”

1 comment:

Steve, Jenn and Tyson said...

Holy Crap you have got to be the funniest pregnant woman I know. My wife and I really enjoyed your little entry here. I told her that you needed to write a book. She informed me that you were. What ever it is about I am sure it will turn out good. Please send Ryan my love. He He. JK. Just punch him in a manly way or something for me.