The Second Time Around.

There's something about the second time around that doesn't quite carry the same impact as the first.  There must be some sort of law about this, or maybe it's just that obvious. 

That doesn't mean, though, that there's no emotion when things come around a second time.  Like getting my blood withdrawn.  I hate getting poked because on most occasions my already small veins quite conveniently go into hiding...麻烦.  But knowing that I've survived previous pokings gives me confidence...though I do remember a certain nurse misjudging once and me ending up with a huge green and yellow bruise.  Hm.  But as least I now know to always ask for a 'butterfly needle,' knowing that I'm a hard one to poke. 

I can think of countless examples of 'second times around,' with the first time behind me and being less of a scaredy cat.  My most recent example is dealing with certain creatures that enter our home.  This time I picked him up between my two fingers (with a plastic bag) and threw him out the window.  One step braver than the first time, and yes, this time the creature had a chance to survive.  No sense in leaving him in our home with mosquito season still a ways off.

Now ready for a third round.