NaBloPoMo #8- A Bad Habit

It’s 11:10 pm. I waited all day to write this post because I wasn’t sure what direction I wanted it to go in. Today would’ve been a special day if if all was normal in my household. But four months ago (actually much longer than that) our family was turned upside down. There’s alot of hurt and anger and resentment now so that special day won’t be celebrated. And it’s making me tired.

Too tired to prepare a post.

We were watching “Dead Like Me” on Hulu and I asked MR what I should write about. He said I should write that too many people were selling baby things at yard sales. Which is true, but not blog worthy. I thought about writing about our upcoming camping trip because I packed and prepared all day for it but it’s not for a few days- it seems a little premature. I thought about writing about what I’m going to make for the craft sale in Westhampton in two weeks…but thinking about how much I don’t have made is depressing.

So what to write?

MR just suggested I write about a habit of his. Since it makes me smile and look at him in a weird way that’s what I’ll write about.

MR skootches. I think I spelled that right. No, he doesn’t rub his ass across the rug- he slides two pieces of material against each other between his fingers. It makes a skootching noise most of the time. It makes a skootching feel between your fingers. I know. Weird.

Here- try it. Take a piece of organza, pinch it between your fingers and slide it back and forth against itself. It goes skootch, skootch. It sets my teeth on edge sometimes but he’s comforted by it. I’ll wear something or we’ll be shopping and he’ll grab the material and skootch it. Proclaim it “good skootching material” and get a dreamy look on his face. I love this about him. His quirky little habit left over from his childhood (ever see the satin edge of a baby blanket? His first skootching experience.)

This is really his only compulsive habit. And it’s not an every day thing. Not like me and my cuticle picking, or zit squeezing (I know, I know- disgusting. But hey- Googling that little gem just gave a name to MY condition- Dermatillomania! I have a disorder! Woohoo! Now about that therapist…) MR only skootches when the situation presents itself. He doesn’t go out of his way to purposely skootch. It’s actually kind of cute when I catch him doing it without him knowing I was watching. Zombiegirl hasn’t displayed any kind of obsessive behavior yet, but she liked skootching when MR showed her how.

So there. On a day that was supposed to be a happy celebration, you got skootched!

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