All right everyone, it’s time to embrace our idiosyncrasies. Let’s shed the hate we have about all our imperfections. All our little glitches add up to the sum of who we are. I know it’s hard to believe, but I am not perfect. To prove it I’ll start with some of mine …
LIGHT TIME’S OVER
I admit I’m budget-conscious. I know that electric usage adds up, so yes, I cook in the dark. I figure I’ll create my culinary masterpiece in the dim setting of twilight while saving a few pennies. I’ve never killed anyone with undercooked chicken and my family usually eats my food without complaint. Boiling noodles in the dark does not contribute to my husband’s enmity toward spaghetti night. He just hates spaghetti.
TIME TO TURN TO A PUMPKIN
I’ve been with my husband for 20+ years. For the past 15 of those years, I’ve marched myself up to bed, donning fleece pants and a tee shirt from 1997, and I go to bed. I do this at 10 p.m. SHARP. If it’s 10:07, frustration sweeps through me. Of course, my cats continually attempt to sabotage my efforts at staying in bed by puking on the carpet five feet from my head. Exceptions are made to allow for cleanup. Those exceptions do not go without complaint.
TAME THE MANE
I have wild hair. My curly locks twist and twirl on themselves, often creating a nest fit for our neighborhood birds. On humid days, my hair plumps to epic proportions. To keep my hair in check, I simply subdue it with a hairband. I’m also a chronic fidgeter (those fidget spinners are for rookies), so I take my hair in and out of hairbands chronically throughout the day. Since I never know when the next compulsion will strike to put up my hair, I keep hairbands on all doorknobs in my house. If you ever visit, put your hand on a handle and you’ll notice at least one band looped around, waiting for its calling.
I’m going to claim to be “normal” on this one. I stare at computer screens with the intensity of a 6-year-old watching a Disney movie. The problem is, my eyes dry up. At some point in my adulthood, I discovered eye drops and haven’t looked back. Ah, the refreshing relief of those drops! As they slide into the eyeball, it creates such happiness in my soul. Well, it doesn’t for my husband. Or child. They have a thing about eyeballs; so much so that I can’t administer those drops anywhere near them. My husband and child run out of the room the moment I whip out the Visine, as if I just set the house on fire. I’ve tried to convert them, to no avail.
I’ve learned to embrace my idiosyncrasies, and I make no apologies for them. They are all ingredients to the recipe of me, the person who sits here and writes this. I love paying attention to others, to see what they think are their quirks. All those little quirks … they’re just pieces of that main dish. Beyond the meat, it’s the salt, the pepper, maybe some paprika and a little bit of corn that make us who we are. Going forward, maybe you can recognize all your little ingredients, your peculiarities and take pride that they’ve baked into the whole being of YOU.