OCD out of control
It's official. I've gone off the deep end. Sure I nestle in the comfort of my Tungsten C Palm Pilot so that I won't (god forbid) forget to clip my toenails or have the kids take a bath, but now, I on;y feel okay if I have the day's to do list on an index card. I guess it's just so much more satisfying to scratch things out with wild abandon and a maniacal grin on my face that to serene push a few keys to make things go "poof." BTW. I love that word, poof. It's fun to say. Try it. Say poof, poof, poof, poof, poof. You can thank me later. Anyway, before I went out on my usual Wednesday nite date with my husband, I took out the dry erase easel we use for homeschool and wrote out, for each kid, those things they had to do before going to bed. Like "eat dinner." Hmmm. Let's see. If they don't eat, won't their stomachs growl at screeching decibels so that even the neighbors are alerted to their hunger? Next. "Take bath." Uh huh. Yeah. I KNOW they just put check marks in the little box next to that one. When I'm gone, their idea of a bath is probably turning their underwear inside out and spraying cologne all over every square inch of their bodies. There were some other things on the list, too. But when I got home, only the kids who really didn't need to be reminded had checked off everything. The others forget to even look at the board. Shades of their mother? Poor kids.