order, order!

Every time they do this, it causes me acute physical pain:

Which is why, I firmly believe, that they insist on doing this.  Instead of four distinct colors in lovely shades of springtime newness, we end up with four tubs of swirly nothingness.  The bigger person would just sigh and recognize that it’s the kids’ play dough, but I just can’t.  I cringe and recoil and mutter things about keeping the shades separate.  But, the dough’s not mine because if it were mine, things would be different.  Very different.  The red would stay red, the yellow would be pure yellow and never the twain shall meet and create an off-putting orange hue.

And yes, I am just that law abiding when it comes to the little things.  I observe the “No Right Turn on Red” sign that my husband always ignores.  I toss the milk on the expiration date regardless of smell.  And this aspect of my personality has never been as satisfied as it was when I lived in Vienna surrounded by people who never crossed the street against the light and waiters in cafes that carefully brought you out your coffee in the same meticulous set up each time.

Now, my life is clogged with Lego airplanes hanging out on the edge of the tub, wooden play food in my shoes, and red double-decker buses parked in the refrigerator.  A little orderliness cannot possibly be too much to ask.


1 Comment »

  1. mom said

    It may be inherited…I hate to play Candyland with made up rules.

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