Also known as an Achilles’ Heel; either way it is the source of my physical vulnerability. However, my Kryptonite doesn’t come in the form of a glowing-green rock…
Instead, it appears as an adorable bundle of fur…
That particular ball of death-fur is Eightball; my friend Leslie’s new cat, and one more reason why I can’t spend more than an hour in her house. It’s sad, on so many levels.
I couldn’t have been more than 12, and we would occasionally visit Aunt Anne for family dinner which included their family cat. My mom had a childhood cat who turned into an adult nemises when she came home from college and had developed a severe allergy to her beloved kitty. This meant that growing up, cats were no where near our household; so I relished the trips to visit my aunt because I loved cats. Every time we left my aunt’s, I reminded my mom that I was so glad I didn’t have any allergy to cats; she always said, “just wait.”
Sure enough, after one of our family dinners, we were pulling out of the driveway and mom drew attention to the index finger I was using to rub my right eye. “Ohhh…looks like someone might have developed an allergy to cats?!?” No way. No! No No NO!!
I was devastated. So much so that I spent the next year drawing pictures of cats for all my art projects in school. Halloween kitty. Firetruck kitty. Christmas kitty.
Cats had become my Kryptonite.
To this day, I am so sensitive to cats, I can walk into a room and tell you within the hour if a cat had ever been there. It is the one thing that can take me from 100% health and functionality and render me nearly useless and debilitated for days afterward.
I marveled at how sometimes it is the things we love the most that end up being the worst things for us.
What’s your Kryptonite?