I suppose everyone has their fair share of quirks, some a bit more life interfering than others. I can proudly claim that mine are extremely limited, most likely due to my extremely laid back mother and well, marrying into the "Quirk Family."
I can sleep quite well regardless of the direction and shape my towels are folded. And, like Sci Fi Dad and I discussed a few weeks ago, any cleaning products are the right cleaning products, made better when used on my floor with your mop and elbow grease.
But that doesn't mean I freak out a little bit when my daughter decides to peek into the "cool silver box" in the public restroom.
We've all got our deal breakers; some of us refuse to shake hands and can't leave the house without lining up the rug tassles. And others of us just don't like to get shocked every single time we grab a door knob so we tend to flick it oddly before grabbing it.
But take the silver box example. I say, "Don't touch the silver box because it's really a little trashcan where people tend to put personal waste that is for their fingers only" (feel free to giggle the next time you are one stall over from me). But then there's the "Don't touch the silver box of death because it's full of germs and now I must wash your hands 40 times over and desanitize you with a wet wipe so start stripping kid."
And unless our quirks interfere with us making it out of the house, they really won't ever give us too much of a hassle. Granted, I was schooled in the "correct" way to dry yourself off before exiting the shower, and how to properly hang the toilet paper roll so the paper falls over (God not under YOU FREAKS!).
But hell, we survived, albeit with way less sex, but alive and kicking just the same!
But then kids come into the picture, and I say all bets are off. It's time to quit the quirks. You know, bury your bizarreness.
Because what pains me more than seeing people obsess over something so ridiculous is when their kids do it too.
Now I understand that many of our oddities, or preferences (if we're using gentle language), are personality based and can be related to specific developmental issues. But when kids are demanding four layers of toilet paper on the public restroom seat, I start to wonder if parents aren't letting their own quirks rub off a bit too much on their kids.
Try cover and hover, kid.
Now I know it's one thing to be safe and careful. But when our kids can't eat a perfectly good raisin off the floor in peace and quiet and play in the sand without being vacuumed with a car vac, then what is this world coming to?
Truth be told, I want my kid to be quirky all on her very own. She doesn't need my baggage and she most certainly doesn't need my weirdness. And pain me as it does to explain to her why peeing on top of another family member's (or God help me, poop) is not a big deal, I will do it.
Because damnit someone has to make up for some of the crazy shit my husband likes to think is normal.