Years ago my cousin sent me a card that was from the “Deep Thoughts” series of skits on Saturday Night Live. It said:
“If you define cowardice as running, kicking and screaming at the first sign of danger, then yes, Mr. Brave Man, I am a coward.”
That cracked me up.
It came to mind as Paul and I were hauling an old pool cover from behind the garden shed where it had been abandoned by our home’s former owners. I leaped through the air, shrieking, at the sight of several small, gray creatures we soon identified as moles. Safely on a piece of cement I tried to calm down under Paul’s rolling eyes.
Between incoherent mumbling I offered my defense, “Look I know it is irrational but that is the nature of fear…they were wiggling and they startled me!”
Mr. Brave Man just shook his head.