a little ocd

Chris. What can I say. I love him. He's awesome. He makes me smile.

I do have one or two things that get to me, but that's the stuff I keep to myself.

One thing I do not keep deeply hidden is my dislike of his ability to lose grasp of objects that he's usually tossing high into the air. Usually said object is aimed directly toward the space I happen to be occupying. There's been many (too many to even count) a close calls since the two of us have become a couple.

He's throwing the football, high, tossing it back and forth, catching it, until it zips past my head, missing me by a centimeter, knocking the lamp over. Or he has a shoe in hand, tossing up, catching, tossing up, catching, tossing up and over and he's trying desperately to get to the shoe before it hits me square in the head. Last night he was tossing the new tennis racket up and over, up and over, up and forward, knocking over the two picture frames on the table. I always just shake my head.

Or,how he has this uncanny ability to lock himself outside when it's 2:30 in the morning, or 7:30am and I'm still in bed, or 11:45pm and I've been upstairs, in bed sound asleep for two hours already. I'll hear a little knock, knock, knock. Now-a-days I don't even look at him. I just open the door, turn around and go back to bed. He's usually wearing a sheepish grin.

It's just been recently that we think Chris has a mutant gene. He has a few obsessive qualities that we talk about. Like how his shirt sleeves constantly bug the heck out of him. Next time you are next to Chris, notice how every other second he is adjusting his sleeves. He'll hike his shoulders up trying to adjust, or he'll take his fingers, grasp the sleeves at his shoulder, and move the t-shirt just a little bit further up his arm. And like I said, this happens constantly.

Sometimes the shirt thing goes a little bit further. We'll be sitting in bed, reading or watching television, and then all of a sudden I'll notice Chris freaking out, pulling his shirt off over his head like he's just seen a huge bug crawl up his sleeve. Once the shirt is off and has been thrown onto the floor quite forcibly, he's ok.

One thing I do love about this little problem, is that he tends to want to do something with his hands. If it's not throwing objects at my head, or tweaking with his shirt sleeves, or knocking on locked doors, he's lovingly rubbing my feet. I sometimes feel a leeetle bit guilty asking him to do so. I know that he's tired. I know he'd rather not. But then I notice that hands moving and in constant motion and I don't feel too bad. I really think sometimes he doesn't even notice he's been rubbing my feet for an hour. He's just content moving his fingers back and forth. Maybe he's not noticing the way his shirt sleeves are riding up, bothering him, making him think he's going to go crazy if he doesn't reposition them just one more time.