They have been both enamored with and afraid of the vacuum. If it was nap time and they weren't settling down satisfactorily, we could make motions to run the thing, and in two seconds they were in their beds under the covers not moving a muscle. Hiding from the noise? The giant air sucker? Who knows. Oh, and then in about five minutes, with the thing still whining and blasting, they'd be asleep. Score!
One supremely annoying fear was that of toe fuzz in the bath tub. Both boys would be in, shampooed up and happily splashing around when all of a sudden, someone would see some of that evil scary sock fuzz float by. Holy god it was Twin Hysteria from that moment on, crying, shrieking, trying to claw out a very slippery tub. I will admit, I have been known to take a strainer to the bath water.
There was O's strange aversion to drool on his sheets. Each night as he settled onto his pillow, he'd first check the sheet just below it and if there was some dried saliva (so he said!), he'd pull his pillow a bit toward the foot of his bed to cover the (dry!) drool spot. Eventually after a couple of nights he'd be scootched halfway down his bed all scrinched up with his knees in his chest - and sleep that way. I mean, I launder his sheets but I'm not about to do it every day because he's gone OCD over an invisible dry area the size of a fingernail clipping, if that!
For a time both boys were petrified of the noises emanating from the forced hot air vents. Of course, you have the heat on and blowing because it's WINTER, and it's just not an option to placate the child and turn it off. Crying in the night, the blowing, the clicking they got to know would signal the blower was about to start. Good grief.
Currently at bedtime, J grabs Dogga-doo and sniffs him, several deep, intense smells, then hugs him, and finally unceremoniously shoves him under his covers. It is so weird it makes me laugh, but I have to love it because with my smell obsession, I am happy that someone else in the house is all funky with smells, albeit that of a crusty, spittled, threadbare dog.
My favorite, which I crack up over with my guys now, was the turkey baster phase. Thank goodness that was an easy thing to hide, but when I took it out a couple of times (not like I'm making turkeys left and right), both of them would literally run away screaming. OMG I knew I shouldn't laugh, but it was just so hilariously bizarro!
I try to keep it in perspective. It certainly seems like an eternity in the throes of the latest fear or obsession, but really, it only lasts a relatively short time in the scheme of the cosmos.
Oh my gosh, that makes me laugh. Other than aversions to various forms of clothing and hysterical objections to combing their hair, I can't say I've had anything close to this! Might need to show them various kitchen appliances though, just to check!! You will enjoy these stories for years to come!!
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