Okay – please someone validate my existence and tell me I’m not the only one who licks the little aluminum foil cover from the yogurt container to get all that yummy stuff off the top. I caught myself the other day with a mini-spatula scraping the inside of the cup to get every bit of yogurt and I thought perhaps that was going too far.
Quirks — we all have some — c’mon admit it. You tell me yours…I’ll tell you mine. Oh, wait. I really don’t have any besides that yogurt cup thing above. Seriously. I’m not quirk-prone.
Devoted Spouse? He’s quirk-prone. He’ll get all the goodies out of the ‘fridge and line them up on the kitchen counter to make his sandwich. Then he’ll turn around and place said goodies on the opposite counter across from the ‘fridge…and LEAVE them there. I keep telling him to skip that middle step and take them right to the ‘fridge and put them away – eazy peazy. But noooooo, I come into the kitchen days later to find dessicated packages of bologna still sitting on the counter not a breath away from the ‘fridge. Gah.. Drives me totally insane.
That’s what quirks do – they make you go all postal or climb a clock tower and turn into a sniper. Quirks are just enough to make you run screaming from the house because you simply can’t take it anymore. Not that I’ve ever done that… well, not lately.
I tease Devoted Spouse constantly on little quirks he has — sometimes I realize it’s akin to nagging and I back off but usually that’s after I’ve taken a few jabs. He’s very patient and probably just does his “man” thing where he tunes me out. (yeah, that’s another quirk but we won’t go there today).
I got my payback the other day. I was sitting in my comfy chair w/EmmaLou at my side and my trusty laptop on my lap and I was just a-fritterin away the morning Twitterin’….when in runs Devoted Spouse, grabs my hand and says, “Come with me!” Thankfully, he allowed me to move the laptop first.
We went flying into the kitchen, stood at the counter where I keep the canisters (ya know those things that hold flour, sugar, and sometimes extra ammunition) and wildly started gesturing toward the sugar canister. Oh good grief — the lid was off, the Zip Lock pouch of sugar was open, and the wooden cover to the canister was casually sitting atop the counter. He points and points and points and in a loud and rather smug voice says, “See!” “A-Ha!”
Well crapola. There was a perfectly good explanation — I had been making up a batch of food for my hummingbirds and was distracted from the task (probably by something Devoted Spouse needed) and so I forgot to go back and put the flippin’ sugar away. Big fat hairy deal. One quirk.
His dead food on the counter waaaaaaay outweighs my open sugar canister any day in the Annals of Quirkdom I think and maybe another day we’ll discuss unopened mail left on the kitchen table FOREVER….sigh…