I licked that!

When I was growing up, my mom had like two or three different shapes of silverware in her drawer.  They were mismatched, but there was a lot of them.  If  I really would have wanted to, when I set the dinner table, I could have given everyone a complete set of one type -- but I chose not to.  I am not really sure why, just being ornery I guess.  The only person who got a complete set of silverware, all the same set, was me.  (I believe this is probably where my OCD started!!)  No one really cared what silverware they got, as long as they had a set by their plate.  Well, all except for my little brother, Vernon.  I, of course, would always have the pretty set with a very pretty design at the bottom, all matching.  Everyone else, just got whatever I pulled out of the drawer.  If I had another complete set in my hand, I would still mismatch everyone's at the table; therefore, no one, but myself, having a complete set, and not only a complete set of the same silverware, but a complete set of the fanciest silverware. 

This just irritated the crap out of Vernon.  He would see that he had the crappiest silverware and he had like all three designs, nothing matching.  He would try to steal mine; the complete, pretty set.  It would anger me  to no end when I would sit down, after working very hard on setting the table (with no help), to see he had switched his silverware for mine. 

This brought out the big guns!  I started licking my silverware!!   Yes, I would take my knife and my fork and my spoon and I would lick it!  I would make sure that Vernon saw me do it.  I started doing it with my plate and my cup as well.  Bite me!  I was setting the table, I deserved the best of everything.  

This escalated to licking everything!  I would lick the best potato, the best piece of bread, the biggest ear of corn.  If it was the best, I would lick it.  This only seemed to bother  Vernon.  My mother and father would take whatever the hell they wanted, whether I had licked it or not.  Sometimes, I would tell my parents that I had licked it and my dad would give me that look of disbelief and my mom would maybe backhand me.   So, I started only telling Vernon which were mine! 

If Vernon ever did this back, I had no idea.  So, it has been 26 years since I lived at home and to this day, I believe I never ate anything or ate from anything that Vernon licked, I am sure he cannot say the same! 

This perfect plan of, "I licked that!" stopped working with my husband and children.  They didn't care.  How could you possibly not care that someone licked something?  It is disgusting to KNOW someone has licked something and yet you take it anyway.  I lost the desire to lick anything.  

My husband and kids even will drink from the same cup or bottle or straw -- gross.  If I am sharing a bottle of water, I get the first drink (usually an extra long gulp) and then you can have the rest.  If you want me to taste something from your plate, I will use MY fork and touch a piece of meal that has not been contaminated with your fork.   If you stick your fork in my plate and grab yourself a bite (Mike Lacey!!) I will simple eat around your bite and leave a safe distance of bad food/good food ratio.  If we share a dessert, I will simple eat on my little corner, again leaving a safe distance of bad food/good food.  Forget ever sharing a fork or a straw -- that will never happen. 

If we are ever at the dinner table and you see me licking something, just assume it is the best at the table and it's MINE!  Don't touch it; don't even look at it.  And, by all means, don't take it, it has been licked.

XOXO