Hippo Redux

Okay, the wife wants to bring to bear her considerable clinical expertise on my declaration that the Hippopotamus Amphibious is now one of my mortal sworn enemies. Please, if you have not read my hippo manifesto, do so here before going further, otherwise this will make no sense whatsoever. If you have read it, this will make only a very little sense. My comments on this flimsy analysis of her psychobabble to follow.

So without further ado…from Wifey:

After my initial appalled laughter at your “Move and the Hippo Dies” blog, I have spent some time actually analyzing what that post really reveals about your personality, upbringing, and future potential. I am a therapist, after all. Here, dear husband, is my professional clinical opinion about your hippopotamus hang up.

My first impression involves a general acknowledgement of your overall level of “contrariness”, or oppositional defiance, if you will. You clearly feel challenged by any assertion of truth or fact, i.e. hippos have no natural enemies. While this seemingly innocuous fact would not cause ordinary folks to have any type of reaction besides a general sense of harmony and peace, you responded by swearing them to annihilation.

What about you makes you uncomfortable with the idea that an animal is living in relative safety? Is it because you never had love, safety, and consistency in your early years? Most likely this is your mother’s fault. (Shout out to Freud on that one!)

Secondly, I would work with you in a session to address any early bad experiences with water you may have had. Since I am your wife, I am clear about your particular bad water experiences. Your hostility toward the hippo, a primarily water animal, is clearly a misappropriation of your vulnerable feelings related to scary swimming lessons as a preschooler. It’s a classic case of sublimation. You take your vulnerable, scared feelings related to water and twist them around in your subconscious to hatred and bitterness toward the wholesome, happy hippo who splashes around in the water all day.

Finally, you have made a sworn enemy of an animal that is easy to avoid, thereby supporting your inherent laziness. Husband, we do not live in Africa. We will not be coming across any hippos to vanquish. How “coincidental” that you have sworn an enemy that you will never have to face -- clear fears of inadequacy there. Well, inadequacy plus laziness.

Post Script
I wrote the above prior to coming across a writing assignment from your youth which I happened to discover while cleaning out our attic:
By: SRH., age 4 ½
Question: What animal would you like to be?
Your answer: a HIPPOPOTOMAS

Hmmmm… this puts a much different spin on your “Move and the Hippo Dies” diatribe. A very different spin indeed. Clearly, you are venting your hatred of that which you can never hope to achieve – the blissful, enemy-free life of a hippo. The real question is: “Why do you want to be a hippo?”

What was not provided for you (by your mother, I presume) that you had to escape into an imaginary world where you were a large land/water mammal on the Dark Continent?

Well, our time is up. We’ll have to discuss next week…

Okay.. my response…

Firstly, one should not get close emotional ties to one’s clients, so I will preface this response with a question. Should you be licensed if you are trying to deal with your husband as a therapist? Clearly that is a conflict of interest. You could be censured by the Ohio Board of Social Work if people actually felt that you were conducting therapy sessions with your husband. Luckily, we all know that you are not, in fact, counseling me on my various paranoid and delusional aspects of my personality.

Of any attacking wild animal, the hippo will kill its prey. Examples of this exist here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here. The hippo does not really seem to lead the life of a gentle creature, therefore, I do not wish to react to the lack of predator for this killer animal with “a general sense of harmony and peace.” I instead have determined to take a stand against this murderous beast. Opositional defiant… or altruistic? You be the judge.

Whether my mother loved me or not (WHY MOMMA!?!?, WHY?!?! I WAS A GOOD BOY!!!) is immaterial to my desire for the overconfident mega mammal to feel fear. All animals must have a natural predator, it is the natural balance of things. It just so happens that hippos have gotrten away with not having a predator for a long, long time (and, before anyone starts claiming that people do not have a predator… I, yet again, remind everyone of the evil man killing and eating Yeti).

My preschool swimming experience is really a non factor in this discussion. All that experience taught me is that I should not learn to swim in a class where everyone is taller than me and just as determined not to drown. I can swim like a fish now because of that traumatic experience. My swimming prowess will be one more weapon in my arsenal of hippo-killing.

At 4 ½ I knew I had a destiny to fulfill. One must be like the enemy to truly understand the enemy. I knew somewhere deep in my soul, even at the age of 4 ½ that I was destined to be something great. Since then I have decided to settle for killing some hippos. Eh, I could do worse.

To recap:
Wifey is no longer a clinician, don’t believe a word she types
Can one deny being “oppositionally defiant” without appearing “oppositionally defiant?”
Freud is an insane idiot who tries to foist his own weird fascinations and delusions on everyone else to make himself not a frikkin’ weirdo even in his own head.
Oedipal complex my ass! He never met my mom.
Nothing wrong with lazy. Stop bad mouthing lazy