That’s Just Perfect!

The writing prompt was to write about habits, addictions, and/or quirks.

That’s Just Perfect!

Martha’s mother, Gwendolyn, had what you would call some quirks. Some might even call them habits (I’m not sure whether you would call them good or bad). And some would say that she was an addict. It had to do with perfection. Everything that Martha came in contact with had to be perfect. And if it wasn’t, she would definitely let you know. 

When Gwendolyn (don’t you dare try to call her Gwen)  wakes up in the morning, her ritual (did I mention habit?) is to pull the covers off from left to right before folding them neatly at her feet. Slowly step out of bed and walk cautiously to the bathroom, making sure that there are no pieces of furniture out of alignment with her passage, and proceed to look at herself in the mirror immediately. At this point, she makes sure the proper lighting is on, inspects every inch of her face and hair for anything out of place, and meticulously grooms herself to her satisfaction before even saying good morning to her husband or Martha, should she happen upon them. 

Of course, when coming in contact with her husband and/or Martha, she begins her daily opinionated interrogation and subtle advice-giving. 

“Did you shave today?” 

“You’re not wearing that to school, are you?”

“Your hair is a mess. Did you use that special gel I specifically got for you?”

“I don’t know why I bother. They must all laugh at you in those clothes at work.”

And so it goes, until both father and daughter have left the house for work and school. 

One could only suppose what her addiction to perfection does to her when she is at home alone. 

It might surprise you to know that Martha’s mother has several actual friends. She managed to find those who were looking for advice or those who steadily agreed with everything that she espoused. It’s like a support group for those with the same perfectionist quirks. 

She even counts me as one of her confidants. But I have a secret that I will only share with you. Please don’t tell her. Should you choose to, I’m sure I can spread a certain rumor about you that is sure to be both embarrassing and impossible to deny. I’m a storyteller, you know.

My trick with Martha’s mom is to mirror back to her everything that she says to me as a statement. My intention is to show her that I’m listening to her. Her perception is that I am agreeing with her. 

She says, “That team losing is all the fault of that manager!”

My reply is “That team losing is the fault of that manager,” in a sort of offhanded way, a cross between a question and a statement. 

I’ve even heard her say to others, “Why, Harvey is such a thoughtful person, he understands me so well, and he’s a very intelligent conversationalist.”

I could go on about Gwendolyn, like how she always brings her own napkin when she goes out to eat. Or, when taking the bus, she wipes off the seat before sitting down on a cloth that she has brought with her, only to throw it out on leaving the vehicle.

And trust me, you do not want to be in a car when she is the passenger. You had better be sure of the route you are driving to. She doesn’t ascribe to obeying a GPS. She will have her own paper map with her to make sure you are travelling the correct way. 

I do have lots more I could write about, kind of an obsession with me; however, I see Gwendolyn coming down the street towards my house. I need to be somewhere else.

Till next time…

:{)