So I was reading my Real Simple magazine and came upon their annual writing contest. The prompt for this year's contest is "I never thought I'd..." and then the thought is that you are to write about a time when you took a risk. This is how my entry starts: I never thought I'd have to read about a writing contest in a magazine to realize... I've... well.... not really taken any risks - or so I thought.
So I thought really hard and realized that the word "risk" is relative. Maybe I haven't jumped out of a plane or say, bought something that wasn't in the back of the store on close-out clearance. But I have taken risks - in my own way.
Risk #1: Dressed up in a homemade mouse costume in high school and did a Chinese fire drill with other costumed friends in one of the busiest intersections (for a town of 30,000) on a Friday night.
Risk #2: Tried out way too many times for the high school musical - only to be rejected every stinkin' time.
Risk#3: Went away to college and ... well... had a really good time. Enough said.
Risk#4: Bought a shiny unitard.
Risk#5: Fell in love with the wrong guy.
Risk#6: Fell in love with the right guy - who knew I would love a Republican?
Risk#7: Fell in love with two children born on the other side of the world and brought them home.
Risk#8: Became a mom.
I haven't entered the contest... because that would be a risk. But then again, so is preparing carrot ginger soup (only 1 week post-op from a major surgery and still in a "medicated" state) with a malfunctioning blender that sprays the entire delicious puree all over my entire kitchen. Not that I know anything about an incident such as that... So maybe we all take risks - just not the kind you hear about on the evening news... or in writing contests... I think risks are all in the eye of the risk-taker.
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