"OCD! OCD!" my daughter playfully chants at my wife.
It's one of the most hilarious moments in my life of being a dad and husband - and particularly being a dad of a teenage daughter.
My daughter, her older brother and I agree that Mom is a little Type A/obsessive-compulsive. We also acknowledge her personality comes in handy when she is in mommy mode.
As a child, our daughter loved that just as she was about to become really crabby, it was Mom to the rescue, always having a snack or new plaything handy.
My son loves to tell the story of how Mom had a mysterious power to see into the future while using the software in her Type A personality.
As a freshman in college, our son went on an adventure driving his car to Mexico with a group of kids in school. His left arm was starting to turn a nice red color when he realized Mom was right: She always said you should put on sunscreen first thing because otherwise you get distracted and get a sunburn.
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At that instant, he recalls now, he received a text message on his phone: "The aloe for sunburn is in your gym bag. Love ya have fun mom :)"
It is only one of many times he has thought of his mom as being "connected" to him.
So I guess I can safely say I have adapted to living with the Type A/OCD champ.
After 32 years of marriage I have recognized a couple of clues that indicate you are living with someone who is Type A/OCD. Today I went to grab a bag of frozen edamame from the freezer. As always I made sure to memorize which other packages I touched and exactly the way they were placed in the freezer.
As I removed the bag, I found that the extra room generated from removing the bag of beans left me with a giant puzzle. Deb had, as usual, maximized both space and energy. It's a tough act to follow, or duplicate. Fortunately she is cheerfully willing to volunteer to help.
The other day I went to get the frying pan out of the kitchen closet. It's tucked into a specific spot, between two other pans, and requires precise moves to extract.
Vary from those moves and you'll end up in complete frustration with pans strewn across the floor.
When that occurs, what happens next confirms my feeling that my wife is Type A/OCD. Step by step and with great patience, she talks me through the process of getting out of my predicament. The catch is … SHE IS IN THE OTHER ROOM, and has been since the scenario began!
Enjoy the journey,
Bob
E-mail Bob Oro at northwest@azstarnet.com
