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I suppose we all have our particular brand of…quirks, but this list represents a few of the strange things I do  (or don’t do) that FF puts up with patiently, in no particular order.  He is such a good hubby, and he usually even pretends not to notice.  And inevitably, whenever he does say something about my….quirks, I always respond with “damn, I was hoping you hadn’t noticed that.”

• When I sleep, sometimes I open my eyes and see things that aren’t there.  Yes, really.  Usually this expresses itself in terms of my #1 phobia (spiders) and I will get up and streak into the next room or turn the light on before I ever actually wake up.  I forgot to mention (warn) this to him early in our relationship and he found out in a hotel room when I came to his side of the bed, and woke him up by telling him to GET UP NOW BECAUSE TARANTULAS WERE DROPPING FROM THE CEILING ONTO THE BED!
  • sub note on this quirk: sometimes I insist the spider(s) I saw were real, even when I wake up, and make him move the bed/covers/furniture etc to check.
• I’m terribly OCD about how I fold laundry.  During a marathon sheet-folding session last Christmas break, after manfully watching me go crazy, he finally asked me if I wanted him to get me a T-square for alignment and measuring purposes.
• I comb K’s hair every night before she goes to bed (normal enough, right?) but I cannot stand it when she moves or touches it and messes it up (which she always does, being a squirmy kid).  It results in a vicious cycle of me determinedly combing, her moving, me combing and growling, etc.  She hates having her hair combed.
• I don’t put the twisty tie back on the bread sack.  Just for the record, if he weren’t neurotic about it always being on there, this wouldn’t actually merit a place on the list, because obviously it wouldn’t be a problem worth noticing.
• I hate touching slimy, germy sponges and use paper towels or clorox wipes for all cleaning tasks in which I engage.
• I am a terrible paper/book piler (oh god, my poor desk) but I can’t STAND trash, napkins, juiceboxes/plastic bags etc on the counters/table/van.  I feel very anxious and overwhelmed until I get all that tidied up.   Yet I have the power to ignore the layers of grime on the kitchen tile floor indefinitely.
• Damp towels, sponges, standing water around the sink edge, etc, disgust me because I swear I can hear the germs procreating.  Gross.
• I am incapable of putting toys away in the playroom without sorting them into their proper bins by category.  Just can’t bring myself to mix dinosaurs with stuffed animals with dress up clothes.  K will have some kind of psychological issues in the future because of this.
• I procrastinate/waffle on stupid small decisions, for example, which kind of step stool to get for the bathroom sink for K.  We just bought one, yet have needed one for um, over a year. 
• When making our bed, the sheets and blankets have to be just so.  Even if we are imminently going to bed, I am compelled to straighten and fold the top down just so.  He gave up on understanding this one a long, long time ago.
• I have an obsession with the Target dollar spot.  Even if there is nothing there I need or want, every trip starts with poring over that little corner of happiness.
• I have an extreme fondness for William Petersen, and J from Ghost Hunters. 
• I stubbornly refuse to give up reading a book, even books that turn out to be clearly terrible, frustrating and obnoxious.  And I complain about how terrible, frustrating, and obnoxious they are all the way to the end.  I get a lot of mindless automatic head nods and “yes dears” as a result.
• I get motion sick practically just sitting in a car not moving, so I do most all of the driving in our family.  However, I hate making left turns across traffic and always wait until I have enough room to drive a mack truck with an auto trailer through.  He never teases or harasses me about this.  Even when people behind us are honking their horns.

I love you, honey.