I feel the need

I feel the need

Friday, November 5, 2010

A couple of things I probably shouldn't share, but I will!

Good evening!

I'm actually on my way to a Partylite party this evening.  In answer to your questions, yes, I do need something in spite of the mass of candles I have and no, I'm not going to book another party...I already have!

But I have a few minutes before I leave and I thought I should share a couple of quirks about me that might just explain my skewed view on life.  Or, what I'm really hoping is that someone in the mental health field will see this as a cry for help and starting treating me for free! 

There are two things about me that, as I've been told over the years, people find...odd.

1)  I cannot abide an unmade bed.

Maybe this goes back to my mother.  (Doesn't everything go back to your mother?)  My mom never made her bed.  Let me repeat, MY MOM NEVER MADE HER BED.  Every day and night it was there, this huge pile of tangled sheets and pillows and her leg pillow  (which was really a big foam wedge she covered in pillow case material) and her jammies.  Every day I passed by her room, (Because we NEVER SHUT DOORS either) and there is was, all unmade and making the room look yucky.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a picky house keeper.  I'm more of a  "Shove everything into one pile and the room will look better" person.  Which is why I lose stuff all the time, especially forms and bills.  But making a bed makes the room look about 90% better.

I didn't realize this was a problem until college.  Living in the door, I either roomed with a bed maker or I roomed alone.  I didn't have that roommate who rolled out of bed five minutes before class and then rolled back into bed five minutes after class.  (That was actually my friend, let's call her Eve.  She knows who she is!)  I didn't realize that this bed making thing, combined with my need to be early  (Not a weird thing about me, just good manners.)  made me a big annoyance to my friends.  I would come in to get them for breakfast and while I waited for them to finish getting ready, I'd make their bed.  I thought I was helping. 

Apparently, I was not. 

My husband is not a bed maker, and that's fine because even if I don't sleep in the bed (we have a rule, DO NOT WAKE MOM no matter where she is sleeping.)  I will make it in the morning.  It's a rare thing that my bed goes unmade much beyond 10 AM on any day.

I'm thankful that my children, who are also not bed makers, at least keep their beds out of my line of site.  Peaches has a big loft bed, and I'm not crawling up there to see if it's made, and Skippy lives below decks in the basement.  He barely has a bed.  It's really more of a campsite.

I don't know if it's a sign of insanity or not.  I do know that my mother always has me put my coat on her bed when we visit...

2)  I do not like trays of Christmas Cookies all mixed up.

Okay, even I admit this is a little nuts.  But with the holidays right around the corner, I have to explain this to anyone who might be giving me cookies for Christmas.  I LOVE COOKIES.  I love to bake cookies, I love to eat cookies, I love to exchange cookie recipes. 

What I do not love is those huge platters of cookies all stacked together, as if they belonged on the same plate.  To me, that's killing the cookies.  I can't eat any of them.

This was something I realized only a few years ago.  See, my mom didn't make a lot of cookies, she made Kringle and gave that to the neighbors and friends.  I do the same.  But our neighbor some years ago brought a plate of cookies over.  They were all lovely, he'd dyed some pink and green and all of that.  And there they all were, arranged on a platter like a work of art.  An oil painting of cookies.

I couldn't look at those cookies, all crumbling together, their flavors mingling and muddying.  I couldn't look at it and I realized that this was going to save me from gaining tons of weight over the holidays.  (Of course, the same rule does not apply to cheese and sausage platters, so I still do gain weight.) 

You see something delicious.  I see...a nightmare?

My grandmother always kept her cookies separated in a carrier that was a tower of trays that stacked on top of each other.  Hubby found me one just like it and I love it.  It's how I store my holiday cookies and how I serve them.

So my friends, do not be offended if I don't eat your cookies at your gathering.  I'll make up for it by making your beds!

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