When I was younger, I was obsessed with the Animorphs series. When I say obsessed, I mean Seriously. For those of you who have never had the good fortune of encountering the Animorphs story, let me give you a brief overview. There are a group of friends who are visited by an alien and given the power to acquire the DNA of any animal they touch so that they can later morph into that animal. While in the animal state, half of their brain power can be controlled by their own human minds, and the other half is controlled by the mind of the animal. So not only do they get to have the body and abilities of their animal, but they get to experience how that animal thinks, as well. While in this state, they communicate with each other telepathically. Of course, all of these powers are ultimately to serve the greater good of stopping some alien race who implant themselves in human brains from taking over Earth, but I never actually cared that much about that particular plot twist.
Now, to give you an idea of my obsession, let me just say that it is all I wished for. Ever. If an eyelash fell out and I put it on the back of my hand to blow it off, I wished to be an Animorph. If I won the greater piece of a wishbone, I wished to be an Animorph. If I noticed the first star in the sky, I wished to be an Animorph. Even now, I hesitate to admit to these wishes, not because they are embarrassing, but because writing them here most definitely qualifies as telling someone about them, thus rendering these wishes unfulfillable.
While the idea of becoming an Animorph has always been a dream for me, it has also haunted me. Tonight, I was put in charge of caring for my poor, terrified dog during a routine summer thunderstorm. I had to use the bathroom and, with everyone else either asleep or out of the house, I couldn't just leave my dog in the hallway to shiver alone. In fact, I didn't even have to coax her into the bathroom; she just ran right in. But of course, I then felt strange dropping my pants and taking a seat in front of my dog. After all, what if she wasn't actually my dog, but instead were one of my friends simply morphed into my dog? How embarrassing would that be?
I managed to accomplish my bathroom tasks, but not without overcoming a fair share of stagefright. And this is not a rare occurrence for me. Anytime an animal of any sort is in the bathroom with me, or in my room while I am changing, or present while I am picking my nose or something of the sort, I feel awkward and worry that said animal is actually a friend in morphed-form watching me in my personal moment.
I know it's silly, but I just can't get over it. So the next time I'm around friends, perhaps I'll invite one or two into the bathroom with me. At least then, I'm not worrying the whole time about whether or not they're my friends in morphed-form, since they'll be friends in just-plain-normal form. Or maybe I'll just have to get more comfortable with my embarrassing habits. And anyway, if I have a friend who decides that they should morph into my dog and follow me into the bathroom, I guess they kind of deserve whatever show they may get.
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