I don’t like karma because karma likes to bite me on the proverbial bum. For the most part my life runs along pretty smoothly until I make a judgmental statement about someone and then…Ouch! There goes karma again.
I’ll give you a few examples. Once, when I was pregnant with my first baby, I said to my sister, “Your daughter is cute, but she’s really whiney.” Guess what. The baby that I was carrying at that time can be really whiney when she puts her mind to it. Sometimes I think she could contend for a gold medal in the Whiney Olympics. I’ve apologized to my sister on several occasions in hopes that my kids would become a little less whiney.
Here’s another example: I’m pretty careful about letting my kids go out to play. They have a lot of rules about how far they can go and what they can do. The minute I complain about neighbors letting their small children run loose all over the neighborhood without adult supervision my son gets lost on Halloween night and has to be brought home by a neighbor.
Another time, again pre-children, I made a rather self-righteous comment to my mother-in-law. She had bought some children’s movies for her kids and grandkids to watch when they came over. I had just read a study that said children who watch movies repeatedly had terrible imaginations. I looked at her movies, looked at her and said, “My children will never watch Disney movies because they are so bad for their imaginations.” I can’t remember her reply but she was gracious about it. I’m sure that inside she wanted to punch me in the head.
Imagine my chagrin a few years later when I asked to borrow her copy of “Peter Pan”, a movie that my children had become completely addicted to. I was so fried from mothering at that point I was willing to sacrifice their imaginations for a moment alone.
Finally, my father-in-law told me a story about how his youngest son got a hair wrapped around his toe as a baby and became extremely fussy. It took my father-in-law quite a while to figure out the source of his son’s pain. I remember telling my husband that my father-in-law sounded neglectful in that story.
Let’s fast forward a few years. I had a new baby boy that was the happiest little baby until one day he became extremely fussy. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. I took him to the doctor for a full examination but the doctor said my baby was healthy and he didn’t have any answers for me.
The next morning as I was changing his diaper my father-in-law’s story flashed in my head. I looked down at my little guy’s foot to find a long, blonde hair wrapped around his little toes. It was wrapped so tightly that his toes looked like little sausages that were about to burst. I quickly cut the hair and my son immediately relaxed and went back to being his sweet little self. I felt like a complete jerk!
There are many more examples of this in my history I’m sure. Fortunately for me my brain has suppressed most of them in an effort to shield me from facing my super dorkishness too often.
I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut (most of the time) because karma might be listening in. Oh I’m not as crazy as I sound. There’s no need to call anyone just yet. Wait until you see me wandering around with a tinfoil, thought-blocking hat on my head first.
Tell me, if you dare, when karma has reached out to bite you on the bum.