I am not content to be a freak of average proportions, no sir. I must aspire to be the Queen of Freaks, the Monarch of Madness, the Grand Poo-bah of all that is weird. It is to your advantage to avoid using me as a role model for normalcy.
My evening started off well, but spiraled downward into an obsessive compulsive abyss. My son, Weston, turns thirteen today. I really want to say that he turns thirteen tomorrow, but since it is now 1:56 A.M. my OCD-ness requires that I say today.
Me: "Bad OCD-ness! Why don't you settle down and let me go to sleep?
OCD-ness: "Why, no! Don't you know you do your best work when you're in an OCD stupor?"
Me: " But I just wanna be normal! Waaaaah!"
I just want to go to bed at ten o'clock, like regular folks. But somewhere around 11:30, my brain magically rejuvenates, and I come up with all sorts of cool projects--projects that absolutely no how, no way, can wait until tomorrow. And why should they? If I just wait until midnight, tomorrow is today!
Which is exactly what happened tonight. I'm sitting there, like a normal mom, wrapping Weston's birthday present. Since he's turning thirteen, purchasing gifts has suddenly become more difficult. The toy stage has passed and he has entered the "everything-I-really-really-want-costs-at-least-$200" stage." Since that is so not happening, I gave him some choices. He could either get presents only, money only, or a combination of the two--none of which would add up to $200. He chose the combination.
I was wrapping his present, which, by the way is a really cool manly cordless drill--his first real power tool! (Men, you may grunt your approval here.) I was about to tuck some cash into the box, when the clock struck midnight and my brain said, "I'm feel like I've just had a Red Bull! Time to start a new project!" So I chose money origami.
Yes, you read correctly. I, who have never done origami in my life, started Googling "how to turn dollar bills into origami." At midnight. How hard can it be? Here a mountain fold, there a valley fold, and presto change-o, you have an elephant!
Except after 30 minutes of folding, I got to the part where it said, "Now, you can stand the elephant on the four legs." My elephant didn't have any legs. One moment ( a very brief moment, Auntie M.) my picture looked exactly like the diagram, and the next moment the model elephant had legs! I got a little tear in my eye and had to make a decision. Do I unfold and start over? Do I just cut some legs out of another dollar bill and glue them on? Do I attempt another figure that requires less hand-eye coordination? I chose the latter.
For the next hour, I folded seven cute little money shirts. They weren't as hard as the elephant, but the downside was that I was seriously considering ironing them. Some of the bills were a little worn, which prevented the shirt from being as crisp as I would have liked. And I would just be ironing a "shirt"--nothing OCD about that, right? Luckily, sanity prevailed.
Admit it, you want to plug in your iron, don't you?
The freakiest thing of all? When I finished, I had to go blog about it.
[I am not OCD enough to provide you with a step-by-step tutorial, much as you might want to stay up until 1:30 A.M. making your own adorable little polo shirts. I am kind enough to provide a link though!]