Owning OCD


My dearest hubby just may be a teensy slightly little bit OCD. Not anything too noticible (ok, different foods aren’t allowed to touch each other on his plate) but he does get very, um, fidgety, about having his stuff “just so” and when he packs for the field or deployment or training it takes him MULTIPLE packs and repacks before he’s satisfied. Usually, when I say something regarding his OCD I get a “whatever, I love you.” in response.

So today, we’re packing up boxes for our most likely but not definite move in August. Yup, over two months away and not even guaranteed and we’re already packing. (Brian’s idea, definitely not mine, remember ADD cleaning 101? Same holds true for packing…) I’m being good and helpful, I get into the swing of things finding knicknacks to wrap in tshirts and shove into unsuspecting boxes otherwise filled with books, and I’m criss-cross folding the tops when I’m done. I’d leave it like that if it were up to me, but Brian likes taping everything so I wrestle with the packing tape and very proudly manage to tape up three boxes before Brian notices I’ve criss crossed the tops. Brian goes, “Oooohh…Uh, next time you do the tops do them like this so they’re a little more secure.” And he demonstrates folding first the short sides in and then the long sides so you’re left with just one long parallel crack instead of the cool criss-crossy top that opens up like a flower. I go, “But I like this way.” And he goes, “Yeah, but I’m OCD.”

I was speechless. For all of about 5 seconds and then I yelled (because he’d already left the room), “You can’t just own OCD when it’s convenient!” And he yells back, “I just did!”

Guess it serves me right, haha.


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