The inability to sit still for more than thirty seconds. Most commonly afflicts youngsters, but people of any age can be significantly affected by it. Often is diagnosed incorrectly/unfairly by insensitive and/or "tedious" people who possess either an uncommonly-high level of patience/indifference for whatever monotonous condition/activity is making said sufferer(s) have ants in their pants, or the colorless/heartless mindset/ability to create/maintain such an elevated level of palpable tedium themselves. It may also be a lack of memory of the torturer's OWN childhood which causes him to mindlessly subject the sufferer to such intolerably boring circumstances, since it may not occur to him that HE HIMSELF would likely not have been able to withstand such agonies when he was the sufferer's age, either.
Amused gramma, observing a whimpery squirming child in a church pew: You have an advanced case of wiggleitis.
Child: Yeah?! Well, didn't YOU ever have trouble sitting still during church services when YOU were a child?
Amused gramma, shrugging casually and naively: No, not really, sweetie --- at your age, I was a choir girl, and we all hadda rehearse for hours every week. But I loved it, 'cuz I always felt so close to The Lord, and I---
Child, bursting into noisy floods of tears and jumping up to storm out the door: Oh, that DOES it --- I'm OUTTA here! I'm going swimming --- it's too hot and stuffy in here to sit and listen to this nonsense!
Amused gramma, serenely watching the child stomp out of the church and slam the door behind him, then turning back and exchanging amused helpless shrugs with other old-fogy parishioners before placidly settling back in her hard wooden pew-seat and composedly resuming listening to the preacher's seemingly-endless droning.
Child: Yeah?! Well, didn't YOU ever have trouble sitting still during church services when YOU were a child?
Amused gramma, shrugging casually and naively: No, not really, sweetie --- at your age, I was a choir girl, and we all hadda rehearse for hours every week. But I loved it, 'cuz I always felt so close to The Lord, and I---
Child, bursting into noisy floods of tears and jumping up to storm out the door: Oh, that DOES it --- I'm OUTTA here! I'm going swimming --- it's too hot and stuffy in here to sit and listen to this nonsense!
Amused gramma, serenely watching the child stomp out of the church and slam the door behind him, then turning back and exchanging amused helpless shrugs with other old-fogy parishioners before placidly settling back in her hard wooden pew-seat and composedly resuming listening to the preacher's seemingly-endless droning.
by QuacksO December 18, 2016