I think my lift may not be going all the way up to the top floor anymore. Why you ask? Two years ago I was given the most awesome birthday cake with a big green plastic dinosaur on top! Now because I don’t have any dodgy pink feet running around the house (No really I like kids – I just couldn’t eat a whole one) I didn’t have anyone to give it to, to play with, so it went into our linen cupboard. Now every time I open the cupboard it falls out on top of me as if trying to attack my face! Or at least that’s how I imagine it.
Yesterday while packing towels away I promptly slammed the cupboard shut, got 2 feet away and had an attack of the guilts! The dinosaur is facing the cupboard door… in the dark. How boring. So I went back to the cupboard, opened it, and promptly faced the dinosaur at the towels… there!
*walks off*
*stops* *sigh*
*walks back to cupboard* *opens door*
*Angles dinosaur so that it looks like it’s climbing the towels*
So it got me to thinking about the other mad shit I do, which I firmly blame my mother for! She is the one who told me her story in the first place about not being able to step on the cracks in the pavement when she was a kid without reciting that rhyme afterwards “Step on a crack, break your mothers back…” (They did a lot of LSD back in the 60’s!) besides the creepy song… I am SURE it is what kicked off my slight OCD tendencies today!
Now, if I step on a crack, then I have to walk the rest of the way by ONLY stepping on the cracks… or my foot feels… funny!
Or like when someone closes the curtains, and they’re just slightly off centre by like a ball hair. This causes me to go into fits of convulsions, I just can’t stand ittttttttttttttttt!! They must be equal *twitch* It will be all I can think of until they’re fixed *deep hyperventilating breaths* I think Dalekins just does that on purpose now to be honest to see how fast I can launch myself matrix style over the coffee table to yank the curtain 2.5mm to the right!
Not to mention making the bed which Dalekins and I do as a team sport!
*yank*
*taps foot*
Me: “Dalekins, you have a crease…”
Dalekins: *looks * “What the feck…. Where??”
Me: *sigh* “Just pull the duvet a little more to your side and smooth it out”
Dalekins: *rolls eyes and yanks*
Me: *frowns* *yanks* *sigh* *stomps off to Dalekins side pushes him out of the way and pulls on the duvet*
Dalekins: “What are you doing, have you gone balmy! I just did that why do you keep coming around to fiddle with my siddddde!’
Me: *sad face* “Because you have more duvet than me now… it’s not equal!” *yank*
And heaven forbid should someone leave 1 little chocolate in the box and be too full to eat it… if we don’t eat that last chocolate *twitch* it will never have an opportunity to become what it was meant to beeee *grabs Dalekins by the lapels* This chocolate will never reach it’s full potential as a chocolate Dale!! <Insert this excuse into any form of food stuff that you need an excuse to eat – the guilt of ruining somethings “potential” will make ANYONE buckle>
I could be worse though. At least I’m not washing my hands 5 times, turning around in an anti-clockwise circle, hop-scotching out the door, touching all white appliances once before leaving the house and returning 3 times to ensure I locked it, and then going back inside to make sure I switched off the stove, then having to wash my hands again… *twitch*
