If I perish by shark bite, I'm going to say I told you so with my dying breath.

I have what some have labeled an irrational fear of sharks. It's greater than a fear. It's flat-out terror. And I say irrational because I grew up (and currently live) in a landlocked state, have no plans to ever try surfing, don't resemble a seal, and when visiting a beach, I rarely go above knee-level when "swimming" in the ocean. I also have no intention of going on a cruise, because aside from group dinners with strangers not being my thing, I'd probably be that clumsy f*cker who trips and falls overboard while everyone is busy at the group dinner I deliberately avoided. Suffice to say that I probably won't encounter a shark in my lifetime. At least not one not contained within a tank at an aquarium. Another irrational fear of mine: very small things that have a LOT of detail crammed into their smallness. This includes seahorses. Good thing human babies come out unblemished with unnecessary detail, smooth and squishy, like Silly Putty with a face. Otherwise, my future mothering of youngsters would be difficult and I'd have to rely on the children's father to raise, and in general, look at them.