Peek #5 61-70

In my seemingly never ending quest to come up with the required 100 things about myself I have found some more things from a previous post of mine, but they are still about me, so I'm counting them. 100 things is LOT to come up with. I actually think I went one over last time we peeked, but I'm not going back to correct it, so just consider that one a freebie. So today I will begin with the fact that.........

I only drink skim milk. I can remember watching my mom pour skim milk and commenting on how she might as well be drinking water and she would say that anything else tasted like cream. I never believed it. Then came the time I had to put Zac on skim milk so we all started drinking it and now I can't even drink 2% because it's too creamy.

People tell me the same thing about diet cokes -- sorta. Not that they are too creamy, but that if I got used to diet drinks, I would never go back to regular. I don't intend to test this theory. This is funny (to me) to post this because I had this written this earlier this afternoon and then heard this discussion this evening at church at our ladies meeting.

I brush my teeth -- frequently. Probably at least 10 times a day. Some people might even think I am compulsive about it. A few people might even mention it out loud. Really brave people call me obsessed...to my face. I just can't stand for my teeth to feel anything but slicky. I don't care where I am at - if I eat, I brush.

I refuse to make my bed. And I don't make my children make theirs either. We throw the comforters over them and call it good. When Bill and I first married, this habit of mine drove him absolutely stark raving bonkers. He was an ex-Marine and HIS side of the bed would be quarter bouncing ready with a hospital corner sheet and exactly in the middle, where my side started, it would be a mass of jumbled covers. I like to just burrow down in the covers while he lays carefully, pulling the sheet up to his chin like you would see in a 1950's movie. He would try to make my side of the bed, but I would just rip it out and growl at him. After several years, he gave up and now his side is messy too. I think he realized I would never change.

I eat my food in ABC order. For example, last week my dinner consisted of steak, corn, squash, potatoes and pineapple upside down cake. The ordinary thinker would think it would be eaten corn, pineapple cake, potato, squash, steak. But what if I got full before I got to the steak - which I really wanted to eat - so I had to go to the subcategories in my head.#1 Pineapple upside down cake - simplified to Cake. Easy enough. No sense taking a chance I would get full before dessert is there? I think not. #2 Corn - that was good, because I wanted it to be #2 - It was fried corn - my favorite -- oh it was yummy! But then - I wanted the steak....so in my mind it became Grilled steak. Notice that adding the G and giving it the subcategory of Grilled, I was able to leap right over the potato and squash? Pretty tricky, huh? I really wasn't in the mood for potato but it was next in line and I wanted to eat the squash. How to get to the squash? Yellow - starts with Y - no good. Sauteed? Summer? nope, still after the P in potato. My mind was whirling around the fact that I might have to eat my potato when suddenly I stumbled upon the answer -- forget changing the squash and change the potato to "WRAPPED in foil potato" thereby freeing up the squash for consumption by bumping the potato down to the W's. Oh, I am a genius. You could learn from my wisdom.

I wear flip flops summer and winter - with socks. Yes, I know it looks stupid and dorky, but somewhere along the way the comfort factor won out and I just really don't care. The flip flops aren't comfortable without socks. They stick to my feet and make a sucking sound when I walk. Don't care to have my feet make sucking sounds. That's gross. A few years ago I found a pair of flip flops that I liked so I went to the store and bought every pair they had in my size. I'm not "into" shoes. Besides my flip flops and my 3 identical pair of white tennis shoes (also bought for comfort and as they age they go down the line to garage shoes and then grass mowing shoes), I have 2 other pair of shoes - both brown leather.
I love purses, billfolds and diaper bags. It's worth noting that one of the first things people said to me when they found out I was going to be a grandma was that I would be able to buy diaper bags again. I just love them. More than a person should. I don't know why. I think it has to do with all the compartments for putting things. I love organized things. It just makes life better. That and slicky teeth. Realizing that perhaps I am overzealous in my love for all things compartmentalized, I have battled with this addiction a lot in recent years. Two years ago at a yard sale I sold 17 purses. 14 of them were brown leather. That alone told me I needed serious help. But I didn't use the money I made for serious help - I used the money I made to buy more purses. Still I didn't use "new" money - I used "found" money. I think that is getting better.

I like to car dance. Scratch that. I love to car dance. The kids and I sing at the top of our lungs and car dance and none of us really care who drives up beside us. Occasionally, we can get the person in the car next to us to dance along. It's like getting the semi driver to blow his air horn when you do the internationally understood arm pump in the air. That - to the kids - makes it a good day. So, it just makes the world seem right when the person next to you dances with you.

My nickname from junior high on in school was Dinker. Andi called me this evening to tell me that it's too bad I didn't have a name that somebody wanted to name their child after, but in honor of me, they had named Sophie's new favorite stuffed animal, Dinker. I'm honored to have the pink and white, soft floppy, baby bear named after me.

They also named a cat after me once - sorta. My grandmother used to call me Perri D. and then she would shorten it to P.D. but it sounded like she was saying Petey. So they named the cat Petey. Petey ran away but I don't think it had anything to do with its name. Petey is a great name.

30 more to go but those may have to wait awhile -- but I'll get to them.

Oh and sometimes I just make up outlandish things such as the above mentioned eating my food in order thing -- totally a lie. I don't put that much thought into anything I eat.