1. Motorcyclists with the helmets that make them look like a robot.
I can't see their faces, much less their eyes. And for me, there's something about not being able to see their eyes. Are they looking at me? Are their eyes evil? My imagination runs wild with thoughts that the robotic, futuristic motorcycle guy is going to chase me. Keep going, keep going my mind chants to the man on the bike. I breathe a sigh of relief once he is out of my sight.
2. Realizing my child is psychic.
Andi has mastered climbing up the stairs and it occurred to me that we should spend time letting her practice coming down the stairs. Since she breaks down baby-gates or climbs up them, they really do nothing for her safety. On her umpteenth practice run down the stairs, she trips and falls. I am there, and I catch her. Ella, who is sitting with her back turned, trying on new leggings from our school-clothes shopping trip says, "Andi fell down the stairs and mommy caught her." I hadn't made any noise during this little episode to clue her in, and asked Ella how she knew what had happened.
"I saw it in my dreams. Andi fell down the stairs and mommy caught her."
There are plenty of other things that freak me out, like bathing in yellow water in the flooded city of Ames or having a slug trapped under my heal in my sandal, that when I try to flick it off with my finger, sticks to me forcing me to instinctively wipe it on my thigh, only to have it stick to my finger again, as I attempt to fling it towards the ground. But I am going to leave the list as it is, for now.