This morning I saw an ant trapped in a spider web. I decided he needed a second chance at life so I set him free. Once liberated, I found that the spider had already started in on him. They landed on my shoe and in a panic I killed them both. Chris told me I ruined the spider’s lunch. I felt a little guilty. I thought about how upset I would be if I were squashed during lunch. I started thinking about Karma. Then I recalled the other animal lives I’ve taken in just the past two weeks.
I took the girls I babysit to the Nature Center the other day. A lovely experience, you drive through a beautiful park or you can walk through. Just outside the Nature Center is a single lane residential area. On our way out, in this small neighborhood I saw a turtle in the middle of the street. Before I had time to think I heard the crunch. It was a terrible noise. I immediately looked back to see if the girls saw the murder. They had no reaction. I was so grateful.
Two days later I was driving the girls to the pool, a suicidal chipmunk threw himself under my tire. They did hear my reaction to the chipmunk, but I lied and said he made it. I just couldn’t deal with my guilt and their pathetic looks.
Now add to my body count: spider at lunch, and ant I tried to save. If I believe in Karma, I should fully expect a giant hand, holding a fly flap*, to swat me any minute. Thank you God for not letting this happen.
So there is an element of Karma I might buy in to. Booger Karma is a very real thing. Let’s say you and I are hanging out and you have something hanging out of your nose. My dad calls them sheep’s legs. I am going to inform you that a booger is hanging in clear view, because I need you to do the same for me. I haven’t had a lot of return on this one, but I do consider myself a better friend for it.
There are other applications of Booger Karma. Being a middle school teacher I’ve become a fighter of awkwardness. I keep my eyes open for things like boogers and unzipped pants, anything that is going keep a kid from feeling embarrassed. I have proof that it works too. One day I was in front of class teaching (I told you I’m a good teacher, I rarely sit down) a kid named Jorge raised his hand and said, “Miss, because you always tell us, I’m just letting you know, your pants are unzipped.” A little red faced, I turned, zipped, thanked Jorge, and went on with my excellent lesson.
Please note that I don’t always recommend doing this, because I have been accused of staring at a grown man’s crotch when I told him his pants were unzipped. That day I just ran away. I didn’t know my good deed would go unappreciated.
*Fly Flap. Origins, Resaca, Georgia.