tisdag, januari 10, 2006

OCD, a/k/a, Better-'N-You

"I think I have OCD," says the oldest.
"You do not have OCD," I respond. "You don't wash your hands 10 times and hour and put on gloves to turn door knobs."
"Well, that's true. But it makes me crazy that you and Haley leave things in the wrong place all the time."
"Your sister and I are not neat by nature, I guess, but that doesn't make us super bad people. I used to be a lot worse, actually. When I was a teenager, my room was always a mess. I just didn't see it. Don't get started with that 'Neat people are better people' garbage. Don't start."
"Well, what was the life changing event that made you more neat, then?"
"Oh, I don't know. The prospect that some guy might come over and I didn't want him to see my underwear all over the place, maybe. Or how about when I had to start paying for my own things and I decided that food and clothes didn't necessarily belong in the same pile if I wanted either to be any good. Is that life changing enough for you? And by the way, this qualifies as 'starting.' Don't start."
"But what can you two do to get better. It really annoys me."
"Has anyone ever told you you have OCD and that all conditions get worse as you get older?"

4 Comments:

Blogger Lance Mannion said...

You made my night with this one. In our house the kids don't mind having a sloppy parent. They mind having a funny one. Or one who thinks he's funny. How do your kids feel about having such a funny parent?

11:49 em  
Blogger Bebe said...

I had my little Hellen Keller at the well moment the day I said something funny instead of anticipated during an increasingly heated discussion with my daughter, and it silenced both of us from the shock and allowed me to more civilly make my point. Now I find the girls working on one-liners like some kids practice snapping their fingers: "How was that? Did that work?"

But funny came late to me, so the girls never learned to drown it out as kids will do with the familiar. Its a shame you had to be so funny and civilized for so long. Your kids don't hear you. You're simply going to have to come up with a different schtick, like, caning or surprise visits to military school campuses.

Best.

1:25 fm  
Anonymous Keith said...

Around New Year's sometime the television was suddenly innundated with commercials for the show Monk. My son happened by just in time to catch one.

"DAD!! He's just like me!"

He was so happy I didn't have the heart to tell him the show's entire humor was based around one man being a freak.

"Look at him make those chairs even, Dad. Just like me!"

We recorded a few. As if there wasn't already enough stressful perfection in the house.

1:26 fm  
Blogger Bebe said...

lol, sorry. He is in league with my youngest. (Actually, he might qualify as the leader, though.) She is so bad that Haley surupticiously moves the youngest's glass and silverware ever so slightly during a meal, just to see if she will mechanically return it to its mark. Stuffed animals are placed around the house, covered in dishtowels that have precise folds. Shirts have to hang a certain length over a waistband. She will never see Monk. It could prove more damaging than any CSI episode.

On the bright side, they are more likely to score well on the tasks aspect of an IQ test, provided a less than perfect pencil tip doesn't throw them off their game . . .

1:46 fm  

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