See that shark there? It's a reef shark. They're not all that dangerous, apparently. They can also be caught on a line and rod. Still, they're pretty scary anyway...who wants to be up close with a shark? Not many people I know. But here's the thing: me and my sister lived our entire childhoods with a shark just like that.

It was in the basement sometimes, and other times it was in the garage. My father caught it while on honeymoon with my mom, and he had it stuffed and mounted. It was there before I was born, and to this day my Dad still has it. And it still freaks me out every goddamn time I see it!

My family was a teasin' kind of family. Let's just admit that right now. We tease one another. I would eavesdrop on Trish as she recorded herself talking and singing into the tape recorder and then mock her relentlessly. (Honestly, a lot of what she said and did was just fucking adorable-little-sister stuff; I loved it.) My parents teased one another. My grandparents picked on each other and rolled their eyes and laughed at some dumb thing the other one said. It was a good-time atmosphere. EXCEPT when it came to that fucking shark!

One ordinary Saturday, Trish and I were in the living room, eating Stella D'oro cookies and watching "The Littles", when without any warning whatsoever my father walked in the back door with the SHARK. It was In. The. HOUSE. The scary looking shark that lurked only in the basement until that time... a shadowy place neither of us went to because it was scary as hell...was now right there, in the daylight, being carried through the kitchen TOWARDS US.

We freaked out. There was screaming, there was a quick evacuation from the room. I know we practically tripped over each other trying to hustle up the stairs so we could run to our room and slam the door to get away from the shark. My dad made scary "Oooooooo, shark..." noises as he walked after us slowly.

It definitely upset us; he got more than he bargained for. Sure, he probably had a good laugh at our little-girl screaming and overreacting. But we didn't forgive him for it. A few years later, once the shark was placed in the garage, I took a stone from the driveway and threw it at it. Nothing happened; the shark stayed in place, looking menacing as ever.

Stupid shark!

Although...

I have to admit sharks are cool. You know I am always tuned in to Shark Week. And I scan the news for word of new shark attacks. I do. I think Trish might do it, too. We've got a history with sharks. Big, dead, mounted sharks with glass eyes and fiberglass bodies.

You know what else is freaky as hell? The huge fiberglass blue whale in the American Museum of Natural History. That whole ocean room is scary as fuck to me. When we watched Squid and the Whale recently, the movie ends with a scene in that room. It gave me goosebumps remembering how creepy that place was.

Between that room at the AMNH and the movie "Orca," that might explain why I was so scared to walk past our pool at night when I was in middle school. I used to imagine an orca rising up out of the black water in the dark and biting my arms off.

Hmm... I smell a new TAG-POST. Or whatever they're called.

We've done childhood weirdnesses-- so what are TWO CHILDHOOD FEARS? I'm tagging the usual crowd... Trish, Tinapopo, Lani, Jen, Smackadocious, Pixie, Fraulein N, Lengli (if she's able to blog from FRAAAHHNCE), Kane and Out in Left Field. And any of the rest of you-- I'm looking in your direction Paul, Mike "too coole for schoole" toole, Robert and all of youse guys.

Go to town, scaredy cats.