I don't know how to make a fist. No one ever showed me, and although isn't as if I ever needed to use my fists it's still odd that I don't know how to make one. The first time I realized this was when I had my old trainer, Chet. He needed me to make a fist for some exercise or another, and laughed at how I didn't know. And in a way that was characteristic of him, he didn't show me how, just laughed at me. Ah Chet. The first time we had a session was during the evening, which turned out to be a hideous idea. As anyone who knows me knows, I'm best in the morning but deteriorate throughout the day. The workout was so hard, and I was so tired, that midway through I burst into tears and asked him this: if I give you money, will you leave my house now?
From there on all sessions were in the morning.
The fist subject was dormant til recently, when Nick and I were horsing around (one of the responses he gives me when I say I love you is a raised fist and the words "you'd better!") Then he saw what I do when I try to make one.
Here's what it looks like: I curl my fingers into my palm, which is fine. But I don't know what to do with my thumb, so it sticks out as though I'm trying to hitch a ride or make the thumbs-up sign. Nick laughed his head off when he saw my non-fist fist with my thumb pointing up. Then I started to bend it and we realized that what it reminded us of more than anything was Ms Pac Man going through the maze trying to eat the ghosts.
I don't mind being the object of ridicule, as long as I deserve it. And with my Ms Pac Man thumbs, I definitely deserve it.