Soap on a Toothbrush

We were at my son’s soccer game today, and one of the other parents was relating that raising kids today is different than in our day. He said that he was trying to explain to his daughter how our parents would put soap in our mouths when we said something bad. Laughing, I replied that he had it easy. My mom would put the soap on our toothbrush, so it wasn’t a one-time experience, but a residual experience over three or four days! He said that either way it wouldn’t matter, because his daughter would just blow bubbles and still turn it into a game.

CDO (Compulsive Disorder Obsessive)

I was at my men’s group tonight, and they had remodeled the cafe that we regularly meet at. They had completely removed the booths and replaced them with brand new tables. While all of the tables were the same beautiful gray alternating dark and light wood grain, some of them were long rectangles and others were squares. Since our group is large enough to need multiple tables, we dragged one of the square tables next to a rectangular one. That’s when I noticed that the square tables were actually wider than the rectangular ones, so the tables didn’t line up and formed a sort of “T” shape.

I asked the group if anyone else’s OCD was going crazy with the tables, pointing out that the sizes of the tables were off. WH answered that he didn’t mind the tables, but he thought I’d be more bothered by the wood grain on one table going in the opposite direction from the other. I answered that I hadn’t noticed before, but after he pointed it out, then that bothered me too. Everyone laughed, like you do to humor a crazy person among you. But I couldn’t let it go, so I asked the group if nobody else had OCD tendencies. HB said that he did. In fact, his were so bad sometimes that he would tell people that he actually had CDO, because he had to have them in alphabetical order. While I initially found this funny, I realized that I also perfectly understood that.

After our group was over, I surveyed the cafe and realized that there was no rhyme or reason to how the tables were positioned. Some had wood grain one way and others had it in the opposite direction. But it wasn’t consistent on the rectangular tables versus the square tables. Nor was it consistent on the tables against the wall versus the ones in the middle of the floor. It was absolute chaos! Feeling the need to bring order to this, I jokingly asked the group who was going to stay behind and help me “fix” all of the tables. Everyone quickly made polite excuses for why they needed to be somewhere else before dispersing. I gave it one last shameful look before I too left, realizing that the people currently sitting at those tables probably wouldn’t share my passion for having them turned in the middle of their meals or meetings.

The Cardinal: Equally Stupid

Well, Richelieu is back, and he’s found an equally stupid mate to join him. At seven o’clock this morning, I was awoken by the sounds of a bird repeatedly flinging itself against the kitchen window. Thinking that Richelieu had once again forgotten to go attack his mirrors in the tree instead, I was surprised to find that it was a different bird altogether. It was still a cardinal, but it was a female braining herself on our window. And while she did this, Richelieu sat on the fence watching her with an adoring and approving look in his little black eyes.

I guess it’s true that there is someone in the world for everyone, even stupid cardinals. I sure hope this mate actually takes, because he hasn’t been successful in the past. They were all unimpressed by his territorial aggression on a reflection. But maybe he’s finally found someone that shares his passion for hating themselves.

The Blind Reading the Blind

As I was driving home today, I saw a blind guy sitting on a bench. He had his dark glasses on and his mobility cane leaning against the bench…and he was looking at a cell phone. I’m not sure what he was “looking” at, but he was staring intently at…or at least in the direction of…the screen. Maybe it was talking to him. Or at least I hope it was.

One in a Million Shot

My son and I were out playing frisbee today in the front yard. He was very concerned about throwing it in the street and hitting a car. It reminded me of a childhood memory, so I told him about it.

When I was a kid, during the summers, my brother, cousin, and I would throw a frisbee around in the street in front of the house. There were a lot of cars going up and down the street, so we constantly had to stop and step aside until they’d passed. It was annoying to say the least.

At some point, my cousin JS said, “The next car that drives by with their window down, I’m going to try to throw the frisbee through their window and out the other side.” We all thought this was a sound plan, so my brother positioned himself on one side of the street and my cousin on the other, while kept lookout for cars.

It didn’t take long for a car to come rumbling down the street with its windows down. It was summer in Texas after all, and it was hot. My cousin got ready, lined up his shot, and timed his throw perfectly. The frisbee took off, flew straight in through the driver’s side window, floated across the car, and landed on the passenger seat. It was a one in a million shot. It didn’t fly out of the other side, but still. What we didn’t plan on was that the driver didn’t stop. He just drove on down the street with our frisbee on his seat. We had no idea if he didn’t see it or if he figured that was his reward for us using him as a firing range. But we never saw that frisbee again, and the summer got a whole lot more boring after that.