Thursday, November 14, 2013

Capitan Irrational

It’s a bird!  It’s a plane!  It’s Capitan Irrational!

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that once an expectation of “responsibility” falls upon an unpredictable wild card like myself, my mild-mannered alter-ego takes the form of (what my family affectionately refers to as) Capitan Irrational.

Unlike some inferior and far more unstable Superheros, such as The Incredible Hulk, my transition from Brennan to Capitan Irrational typically has no precursor or warning (like turning green and ripping out of my clothes).  I mean, who doesn’t see that nut-job teetering on the edge?  We don’t need to see him crawl in a hole, start to sweat and watch for the eye glow for us to know he is going to snap.

I on the other hand, transform instantaneously and go from sweet and agreeable to borderline insane in .4 seconds when the INEXCUSABLE sets me off.  Such as:

*My mom putting the jelly on top of the peanut butter instead of the bottom inside my PB&J.

*Being forced to ride in the cart instead of wandering Target like a feral cat while my mom chases me and tries to simultaneously get all of the items on her shopping list.

*Asking for a hotdog cut into strips and not circles, and my mom cuts it into strips and not circles…she should have known I really wanted circles even though I asked for strips.

*The wind switching direction.

*Getting wet while playing with the hose.

*Too much parmesan cheese on my noodles (or too little), there is a perfect amount, you know.

*Being denied a piece of candy in the checkout lane.

*Only finding 13 instead of the 14 torn-up pieces of paper I stashed under my pillow.

*Some unsuspecting soul looking at me the wrong way, or God-forbid, smiling at me when I am not in the mood for anything friendly.

*My sister trying to hug me.

*The dog biting at me after I try to bite her.

See…INEXCUSABLE!

It wouldn’t be worth the headache to transform over just trivial or unimportant issues, it really takes a massive injustice to bring out Capitan Irrational.

Granted, my passion bubbles very near the surface, but I will let you in on a little secret…

I. Am. Tired!!!!

Really, it is that simple.

What man doesn’t need just a few ZZZ’s midday to kick back in his lazy boy and recharge his machismo?

The problem… I am four years old & can’t communicate “I am tired” using those three simple words.

Instead, I rely on the indestructible Capitan Irrational to do my “talking”.

So when you see my Superhero appear, or God-Forbid if you are the culprit who commits one of the inexcusable acts that cause him to appear, just keep walking…and try not to judge.

After all, doesn’t everyone have a little Capitan Irrational in them?

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