My mother approached me with an empty Frosted Flakes box the other day 37 minutes after I woke up. "You should fold the empty cereal box in half and smooth it down before putting it into the trash can. That way it takes up less space and I won't have to empty the trash as often." I stared blankly at her. "Are you listening to me? Do you know what I'm talking about?" Sure. I'll go one step further and remove the wax bag inside the box, too. That must take up some room, right? Oh, and I am to remember to put the lid down on the toilet before flushing so the germs don't leap up and my toothbrush across the room. This task I think I've mastered by flushing while still sitting on the toilet. At least the germs can go back where they came from this way. Go to the light, little germs...er, or is it go to the dark...I don't know.
Are they my mother's rules or idiosyncrasies? I don't know. Maybe they're a combination of both. All I know is that living back at home at 42 is much different than living at home at 12. Were these odd practices always in place and I just to young to notice? I do remember being able to lay on the couch for hours, even sleep on it watching the entire Saturday morning line-up of Bugs Bunny and Zoom, yet now, sleeping on the couch is not allowed as it will leave an indentation on the cushion. Maybe that last one is due to my body mass increasing or something.
Maybe I should try to learn from this instead of be bothered by every request. The question is, what exactly is it I should be trying to learn? That is yet to be determined.
