I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned on this blog that I have some tendencies toward hypochondria. I don't know why I developed this trait. Maybe it was the attention I got as a child when I was continually sick with legitimate illnesses like strep throat, mono, and the ever-present childhood stomach bug. My parents are very nurturing, so maybe I liked being nurtured when I was sick. Who can know?
In my adulthood I've also become somewhat of a germophobe. My natural inclination is to wash my hands 30 times a day and I have to remind myself that this is not normal. When I have to touch raw chicken you can multiply that number by two. Now that I'm a mother I continually battle the desire to disinfect everything that my child has touched or will touch. Jackson got to play on the indoor playground at Chick-fil-a for the first time a few weeks ago and I said to Curt, "It would be so great if I could just give Jackson some latex gloves to wear while he climbed around in there." He stared at me blankly. It just looked so germy in there. But who am I to spoil my child's fun because there might be some cold germs lurking?
He did in fact get a cold that resulted in all three of us being sick. Jackson and I are free of it, but Curt's cold is still hanging around. Last night at 11:30 he dug the humidifier out of Jackson's closet. In case you'd like to visualize this feat, Jackson's closet is very narrow and tiny. It is filled with baby gear piled up at least as tall as me. That would be five feet, eight inches. Some of my girlfriends have seen it and I'm sure they will testify that this is true. If you open the closet door you are risking a baby jumper, portable high chair, Boppy pillow, and a box full of Johnson and Johnson baby soap bottles jumping out at you.
What got me thinking about my germophobia was a little episode I had last night. Sunni hosted bunco at her house and we had the best time. She is such a natural hostess and is very easy-going about everything. We were treated to fried chicken from Babe's, homemade mashed potatoes, creamed corn, biscuits, and Paula Deen's sticky butter cake. Wow. My favorite detail of the party was these little napkins that said, "If I keel over in Walmart, drag my body to Neiman's." Love it.
Upon arrival, we of course asked where sweet little Ava was. Sunni said that she was in a room with Xavier, who was taking it easy because he'd had a stomach ache for two days. (Just an ache.) Due to my exaggerated fear of contracting a stomach virus, I began sweating and my pulse began to race. Within minutes I started experiencing nausea. I kid you not! Was I sick? Absolutely not! I say all this to make fun of myself because I am probably the most ridiculous person I know. If it were not for the interference of Jesus Christ in my life, I would have to live in some kind of institution. Or I might never leave my home. I am that kind of person.
Thankfully, we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. Thank you, Romans 8:28. Because I was a little "under the weather," I didn't exactly play my best. Yours truly won the bunco prize for most losses. So thank you Sunni for a wonderful night of bunco. And thank you Xavi for helping me underachieve to the point of winning a new serving dish for candy corns. I absolutely adore it. And Sunni, I appreciate that you are the type of friend who would indeed drag my body to Neiman's, or at least Super Target, if I ever keel over in Walmart.