Grave_Addiction
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Our pet chinchilla, Molly, died last night, so it was time to dispose of the body. She was a good pet, a very sweet pet.
I put on some latex gloves and immediately went to do a father's job of attending to a deceased pet.
Well, I figured I would put her in a box and take her and bury her, right? Shit, I couldn't even barely touch her. I tried to slowly do it, almost got to the point of touching her, but I had to run out of the room. For some reason, I totally freaked out and started getting the heebie jeebies.
I gathered my wits and figured the best course of action was to get in and get out as fast as I could. I stormed into the room, placed my right latexed-covered hand on her and immediately let out the most blood-curdling scream imaginable. I started prancing around the room like a fairy, waving my arms in the air like I was being attacked by swarms of bees.
The wife heard my screams of terror, told me to shut up and not to scare the kids, and came in to do the job that I couldn't. She screamed a couple times herself, and that made me freak out 10 fold, but she finally managed to get our former pet into her cardboard casket.
At that point, I got extremely nauseous and was gagging pretty bad. Almost could taste the throw up.
I now feel like less of a man that my wife had to come in and do a job I should have been able to do.
For some reason, I can't stand the site of anything dead or bloody. My worst fear in the world is to come up on a car wreck and one of the people have bones cracked in half and are bleeding everywhere. I honestly don't know what I would do.
God, I'm pathetic.
I put on some latex gloves and immediately went to do a father's job of attending to a deceased pet.
Well, I figured I would put her in a box and take her and bury her, right? Shit, I couldn't even barely touch her. I tried to slowly do it, almost got to the point of touching her, but I had to run out of the room. For some reason, I totally freaked out and started getting the heebie jeebies.
I gathered my wits and figured the best course of action was to get in and get out as fast as I could. I stormed into the room, placed my right latexed-covered hand on her and immediately let out the most blood-curdling scream imaginable. I started prancing around the room like a fairy, waving my arms in the air like I was being attacked by swarms of bees.
The wife heard my screams of terror, told me to shut up and not to scare the kids, and came in to do the job that I couldn't. She screamed a couple times herself, and that made me freak out 10 fold, but she finally managed to get our former pet into her cardboard casket.
At that point, I got extremely nauseous and was gagging pretty bad. Almost could taste the throw up.
I now feel like less of a man that my wife had to come in and do a job I should have been able to do.
For some reason, I can't stand the site of anything dead or bloody. My worst fear in the world is to come up on a car wreck and one of the people have bones cracked in half and are bleeding everywhere. I honestly don't know what I would do.
God, I'm pathetic.