People often tell me I have a good sense of humor. I tend to agree—at least one of my senses works. As for the other five, well, let’s just say they’re not exactly playing on the same team.
First, there’s my sense of sight. It’s truly “out of sight,” meaning if something isn’t directly in front of my face, I can’t see it. Folks tell me I must have eyes in the back of my head, but I don’t think it’s a compliment. I think they’re implying my eyes are literally back there, hidden behind my hair. Hair today, gone tomorrow, right? Oh, and technically, I do have 20/20 vision. But when you divide that, you get one. So, I figure I only see well out of one eye. People say I’m as blind as a bat, and I’m not talking about the flying mammal—I’m talking about the baseball kind. I have the same accuracy too: sometimes I hit, sometimes I miss. Honestly, I’m more blind than the umpire calling that miss.
Now, my sense of taste? Let’s just say my taste buds and I aren’t exactly best buds. They’ve developed this elite, snobby attitude, like they expect me to serve up a five-course meal for every snack. My palate? It’s basically a palette—an artist’s palette—for a culinary masterpiece. Herbs, spices, sauces—it demands a Michelin-star experience, every meal. Yet somehow, people still claim I have bad taste in movies or music. I have no idea why—I’ve never tried to eat a Blu-ray or a vinyl record. Unless that’s a new food trend I’m missing out on?
Hearing? That’s a bit of a selective process for me. I mean, I could hear you, but why strain myself? People yell at me, “What are you, deaf?” And I’m like, do I look like I’m walking around in a black cloak with a scythe? Although, a scythe would be handy if I needed to harvest some corn—you know, to replace my ears. If you saw me reaping corn dressed like that, you might say it was a bit eerie. But honestly, I wouldn’t hear you anyway.
As for my sense of smell? Well, I think it’s time I renovated my olfactory into a new factory. Let’s just say it’s snot working well. I blame all those scratch-and-sniff stickers and scented markers I went wild with as a kid. Little did I know they’d leave me sniffing out permanent damage. I didn’t nose this would happen!
And finally, my sense of touch. That’s a real touch-and-go situation. I used to be the kind of person who’d always touch base with people—ironic, considering I’m blind as a baseball bat—but now, I’m completely out of touch Honestly, it’s a touchy subject. I thought I had the magic touch once upon a time, but it’s looking more like the Midas touch—everything I touch goes wrong. I think my five senses could really use a touch up—or maybe a touchdown to finally bring it home.
