reckless gene.

My sisters-in-law have a support group. They get together to ask each other if their husband is weird or if their husband's whole family is weird. Usually they come away feeling better from the meeting, knowing that it's all their in-law's fault. This better prepares them to deal with the fact that their children are starting to act kinda weird, too.

I caught them in a meeting on Thanksgiving. Their item of discussion was the "reckless gene." I think everyone blames my dad for this one, though my mother is hardly Princess Grace. But Daddy has that combination of the reckless gene and testosterone. He's rolled a lawnmower over on himself and been gored by countless goats. He'll come in from outside with blood all over his face and not even know it. He once made my nephew cry by poking him in the side with a fork. The kid's mother, who has been in this family a long, long time, resolved the situation by looking at her son and calmly saying, "Honey, Grandpa is dangerous."

I never saw myself as a clumsy person until Josh told me that I was. I knew that I tripped or ran into things sometimes, but everybody does that. I don't think I do it more than anyone else, and frankly, I would like a second opinion. He is afraid of me, thinking that severe bodily harm becomes increasingly more likely the more time he spends with me. He keeps his distance every time I'm wielding something sharp. I told him the story about my dad poking my nephew with a fork, and suddenly he's hiding all the forks in the house. Sure I step on his toe every once in a while and I did stick a muddy finger in his eye once, but I resent being treated like a walking time bomb. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

One of my sisters-in-law called it "obliviousness." I think this is more accurate, and in my case, I think it's more like "lack of awareness." It's like when you're going through puberty, and your body is growing so quickly that you haven't had time to get used to its new size. So you're bumping into things and knocking into others because you haven't figured out that your arms and legs extend that far. The reckless gene is nothing more than a very extended awkward stage.

So maybe I'm clumsy, but I come by it honestly. It came with the nose. And now I have someone to blame every time I step on Josh's poor little whiny toe. It wasn't me.

It was Reckless Gene.