Tonight I am going to talk about doing naughty things. No, mom, dad, siblings, or whomever else reads this, not dirty things. Just things that feel...um...wrong. NO! Still not sexual.
#1 wrong thing: wearing socks outside. My dad drilled this into us when we were young. I don't know if he had a bad experience as a child, but the second we stepped out onto the back porch with socks on, he knew it. And the pointy finger of shame came out. "Get back in there!" You could have been trying to save Missy (our childhood dog) from a pack of rabid squirrels, but the dirtiness on the bottom of your socks mattered ten times more. To this day, I feel awful - and dirty - wearing my socks outside. Even if I am just making the 15ft walk through our garage to the garbage can, I try to find something to cover my feet (no, taking off my socks would be too easy...and then my feet would be cold). Sometimes I find this to be silly. Then other times, however, I try to think about just how dirty our socks could have gotten had my dad not been so strict on the socks issue. The more I contemplate it, the more I think this is a hill to die on. Decided: my kids will feel shame when wearing socks (w/o shoes) outside.
#2 wrong thing: touching mirrors or windows with my fingers. This may be two totally different things, but I will lump them as one. First: windows. As a child, sometimes it was fun to fog up the window and draw your name. Forwards. Backwards. Didn't matter. It was fun. Something about seeing your name as a child was thrilling. Somehow, however, my parents always knew when you were about to do it. They could just sense your eagerness to prove your existence to the outside world. To this day, when Matt wipes off the windows in the car as they fog up, it takes everything within me not to snap at him. And if I haven't slept well, I snap at him anyway. And the second: touching mirrors. Something about this one bothers me more. I think it is the ability to see the fingerprints so easily. The problem is, even when I go to clean the mirror, I cringe if I have to touch it. I have this inner sense that what I am doing is wrong. Toothpaste that needs to be scrapped with a finger nail? Nope. I just scrub harder. Usually I fail and have to resort to using my nail, but I avoid it at all cost. It just feels so wrong. You judge me? You go try it. Go put your finger on a mirror and tell me that it doesn't bother you at all. No? It doesn't? Huh.
No comments:
Post a Comment