Big green box

After 27 years, it has finally dawned on me that I have a habit of getting stuck in things. A couple of weeks ago, boyfriend and I went Zorbing. Now if you don’t know what Zorbing is, it’s where you climb into a giant inflatable ball and roll down a hill. I’m not sure why but it’s really fun. There are two types of Zorbing you can do, strapped-in or hydro – with water. We went for hydro. They chuck a bucket of freezing water into the ball and then you are suppose to dive in, head first through this tiny hole. I’d watched people go before us, fat people! It looked pretty easy.

Then it was our turn...we were up, with all the grace of an Olympic diver, I prepared myself. Arms stretched out in front, legs braced, I jumped into the hole. My head went straight into the waiting pool of water but something was wrong! Where were my legs?! It appeared my hips were stuck! Damn my giant hips of doom! I wriggled but it was no good, I kicked my legs and could feel my self slowly shifting forward but it wasn’t enough. A ‘friendly’ shove from boyfriend and in I popped, quickly followed by boyfriend himself. Rolling down the hill was like being in a washing machine, it was brilliant! 

Sadly I couldn’t shake the fear of how the hell I was going to get out at the other end. Boyfriend went first, without any problems, he just slipped out. Oh god, what if I have to live in a giant ball for the rest of my life?! I tried to dive out but my legs became entangled and once again I was stuck, with all the water rushing out it was kind of like being born again. Boyfriend dragged me out eventually and I flopped on the floor like a freshly caught fish.

It was on the way home from Zorbing that I realised I had felt that ‘stuck fear’ before!
On my first day of university I’d taken a trip to the supermarket with my new friend from halls. I’d been a tad overexcited about just how giant the supermarket was in comparison to what I’d been used to back home. Even the trolleys were massive. I took great joy in riding up and down the aisles, jumping on the back of the trolley and gliding along. 

Unfortunately, the excitement became too much for me when we reached the alcohol aisle, the aisle was clear except for my new friend, who, up until this point, I’d been trying to convince I was cool. I took a run up and jumped on the back of the trolley, ready to speed my way all the way down the aisle. I was flying! I leaned further forward to gain some speed, that’s when disaster struck!

I’d leaned too far forward and fell right in to the trolley. My legs kicked frantically, trying to lift me back up but it was no good, all I could see through the trolley bars was the pyramid of coke I was zooming towards. It’s funny, I didn’t stay friends with her for very long.

As I mused over this episode, I again realised this wasn’t even the first time! No, we have to go right back now! When I was three, my playschool was putting on a Christmas performance. From what I can gather the children were suppose to queue up in lines, walk down to a brightly coloured box, lean in and take out a musical instrument and then go join the other children to sing a song. I’d been practising singing that song for weeks, I knew it, I was going to be discovered, I was the next child prodigy! Sadly it was not meant to be. 

On the big day I was ready, I wasn’t nervous at all. Parents perched on those tiny children chairs ready to cheer on their little darlings, including my mum who had her trusty video camera attached to her face.  

I was the last child to go collect an instrument, it was my big moment, up I walked to this big green box and I leaned in to get my instrument. My trumpet was the only thing in the box, further and further I leaned but I could only tickle it with my fingers, I lifted myself on to my tip toes and gave a slight push off, ready to make a grab for it. That’s when it happened. 

I think I must have blacked the rest from my memory but from what I’m told, every one else had been watching the other children, including my mum! Then she heard a scream! She panned the camera away from the others to reveal my little legs kicking like mad, upside down from a big green box and this blood-curdling scream coming from within. 

No one seemed to react, so my mum bravely dropped the camera and leapt out of the audience, to pull me to safety. I spent the rest of the show sitting on her lap; sniffing away my tears and bitterly watching the other children sing my song!