Clipped

 There's no denying that as I age, I am becoming far more OCD. In college, for instance, I was an unrepentant slop, as were my roommates. In fact, after one Spring semester, I believe it was 1981, all four of our parents got bills for "excessive filth" -- my mother loved that, and kept it pinned to the refrigerator to show her friends all Summer. Part of the problem was that we cleaned the bathroom zero times, allowing a black rug to form, composed of the pubic and body hair of 2 Ashkenazim, 1 Italian, and one Cuban. It was a glorious mosaic of disgustingness. 

Well, I guess like most guys, I grew up, and now like things neat and clean. The problem is that my current roommate of now 37 years, is still in the same mindset she was back in college. One of the favorite pictures of herself, from FSU in, I guess, 1976, shows her eating cold Campbell's baked beans out of a can. Little has changed.

Wifey has manifold wonderful qualities, but housekeeping, or even ensuring our once a week housekeeper does the job, is not among them. And that's ok, particularly since my semi retirement gives me plenty of time to clean up after her, like each am when I scrape the caked on cereal or chocolate from the bowl she left in the sink overnight. I'm just thankful, like the mother of a teenaged boy who at least makes an effort to pee in the bowl, that the encrusted plates make it to the sink. 

When I point this out, she assures me she WAS GOING TO get to it, after letting the dish soak over night. But my OCD doesn't allow for that, and so I scrape, and then place into the dishwasher.

Well, there's another consequence of our different lifestyles. Wifey uses things and doesn't put them back, or loses quick track of where she left them. "David -- call my phone" is heard around here more often than the screech of our local peafowl. Usually the phone is close by, though there have been several events where NEW phones were required -- only to find the lost phone, as D1 did in a dresser drawer where she was looking for Wifey's jewelry to take, knowing Wifey would never miss it, a full year after it went missing.

So probably 15 years ago I treated myself to a nice pair of finger and toenail clippers -- by Tweezerman. I was determined these would not fall into what I call Wifey's maw -- to be misplaced after she used them, and never seen again. So I placed them into a ceramic candle Wifey had placed for decoration on my bathroom sink -- covered and out of view. Wifey found them, and used them, and I pleaded she not lose them, in my full OCD mode. Life went smoothly in the nail cutting department...until...

It was determined that the candle had to go. Wifey took the Tweezermans out, and placed them in a place that I could NOT find this am, when I went to use them. She sleeps very late, and I wasn't going to wake her to learn where my prized Tweezermen were.

So, I just ordered a new pair on WalMart.com, my favorite shopping site. They're due here this week. And then, I will hide them better than a spy hides top secret messages from an enemy country. The Tweezermans will be mine, to only be used on my OCD finger and toenails, and then placed into a safe hiding place. And nail peace shall return.

All kidding aside, as I age, I try to avoid stressers, and not knowing where stuff is is a big one of those. When I come home, I head directly to the key hook in the kitchen and put my vehicle's fob there. Bruce Springsteen could be sitting on my front porch, and I would wave, walk past him, return my key, and THEN be amazed that the one celebrity I ever wished to meet was waiting there for me.

Hell, Shakira might be poolside, cavorting, and asking me to come join her, and her pleas would have to wait for me to replace my key fob. I TOLD you I had become far more OCD...

I guess we all become harder to live with as we age. Last night, I admitted to Wifey she was watching the transition of a man from people pleaser to curmudgeon.

Luckily, I can still summon the former. I still try to be the magical man when I can.

Just don't misplace my nail clippers...