Prepare for the worst
My mother has the most godawful prepare-for-the-worst mentality of anybody I've ever known. Basically, the way she sees it, you may as well go through life assuming that the world's about to end because it'll then be a nice surprise when it doesn't. And if it does, you won't be disappointed. Mental.

When I was a child, she used to impose this philosophy on me quite a lot.

I didn't have my pre-school immunisations until I was six, which was bad enough as it is. I hadn't had occasion to have any shots of any kind since I was a baby, so my mother thought the best way of preparing me for this procedure was to tell me that it was going to be really, really, excruciatingly painful.

I was absolutely dreading it and could barely manage any breakfast on the day of the appointment. By the time we got into the nurse's office I was literally trembling with fear - in addition, of course, to being tortured by that childhood code of honour that says that you mustn't ever cry in such situations.

"Do you want to sit on Mummy's lap?" asked the nurse. Oh God, you know it's got to be bad if they think you ought to sit on Mummy's lap.

The nurse prepared the syringe, which was somewhat smaller than I'd been expecting, told me to think about something happy and stuck it into my arm.

I think both her and my mother were quite surprised when I yelled, WAS THAT IT?????

I still got some Smarties though.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Fri 17 Aug 2007, 15:43, Reply)