It's not unusual for a couple deeply in love to help one another discover new pet peeves. You know, little things you never knew bothered you, like how he forgets to put the cap back on the toothpaste or how she leaves the cupboards open. But eventually true love is supposed to magically change those habits from irritating to endearing--am I wrong?
For example, when I'm in the middle of a book I think Magnet might enjoy, I'm quick to tell him about it. The problem is that when I break away to take a shower or to minimally attend to my responsibilities, Magnet takes the book I can barely peel away from and quickly becomes as attached as me. Mostly, I find this really irritating, but with time it's become slightly endearing because I know he's going to do it; it brings me a sappy sort of satisfaction to have been in love with him long enough to predict him. Also, this helps me gauge how recommendable a book is. Basically, if I'm the first to start it and Magnet's the first to finish it, it's a book worth reading. The latest most wanted book around here was The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. Very intriguing, but if I were to give you a synopsis, I think you might hesitate to check it out, so I won't do that. But do, go read it!
I won't give Magnet the entire spotlight. I manage to do my fair share of annoying things, too. Supposedly, I'm a chomper. The whole concept of how a person silently eats crunchy food is hard for me to grasp, let alone execute. For some reason, I just don't get it. My disability reminds me of a "funny" story my parents like to tell about me:
When I was a young girl, they had to constantly tell me to wipe my face as I ate. The dinner-time catch phrase was always, "Marie, do you feel anything on your face?" To which my response was always negative. But that question was my trusty cue that there was, indeed, something on my face and it needed to come off. It was never a laughing point for me or anyone else until one evening my baby brother who probably wasn't old enough to be taking part in much dinner conversation, said, "Mawee, do you fee anything on you faysh?"
Sure enough there was food on my face that I didn't feel. I sat there for a very long time wondering why they were laughing themselves to tears.
Anyway, similar to how I was unaware of food on my face without some prodding, I never in a million years would have noticed that I'm a chomper. I'm still in denial because I don't know how anyone is suppose to munch on chips inaudibly. Magnet and I argue about this from time to time, but I've recently concluded that it's not my problem that he has owl ears.
That is, until Maggie sat next to me as I was enjoying a crispy afternoon snack the other day. I didn't notice her until she said something like, "Mommy, don't do that! You have to eat like this." And she then proceeded to make slow and giant chewing motions with her lips super glued together. Silently, of course.
Though a stab to my pride, this time I laughed. Here I was, yet again, getting scolded by someone much younger than me about my eating manners. Who knew? I am a woman who can't feel food on her face or keep her chewing to a decent volume.
I don't see how a little chomp chomp is ever going to be cute, but I'm hoping that as our fifth wedding anniversary approaches, Magnet's going to somehow find it endearing. And if not, I hope he'll console himself in knowing that we now have two chomper police in the family. Sigh.
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