I Never Claimed to be Normal

The weather in this part of the country is starting to cool down, especially in the evenings and early morning. The smell of fall is in the air, the promise of the holiday season just around the corner. Leaves are beginning to think about changing their colors, and musty sweaters and jackets are finding their way into the wash.

Since I have already made fun of my husband this week, I thought it only fair to share about one of my weird quirks. I hate wet hair. I don’t like when it touches my neck. When I was a little girl my mean mother would make me take my bath at night. I wanted to take my bath in the morning because then I wouldn’t have to go to bed with a wet head. But, alas, she was cruel that way and I was forced to continue my pre-bed baths.

So I would lie there in my bed with my long hair pulled away from my neck and draped across my pillow. I had to lie flat on my back or the hair would shift from its position and touch me. It was horrible. My hair follicles are the type that retains water like the humps on a camel. Seriously. Hairdressers have complained. If I were to shower immediately before becoming lost in the woods I could probably suck water from my tresses and stay hydrated for days.

I’m well on my way to being a real grown-up person, but I haven’t outgrown the shudder that comes of damp tresses touching bare skin. During the hot summer months this phobia is greatly alleviated, as the need for relief from the heat is greater. Now that the air is beginning to cool the creepy-crawlies are definitely back.

Our primary bathroom is on the first floor of our home in a small section that was added onto the house at some point. The walls are a little thinner than in the rest of the house and there doesn’t seem to be any insulation in them. I think that there must be tiny invisible cracks that allow the cool air to snake its way through the wall and make the bathroom feel cooler than it should. The cold air skates across the toilet seat leaving the porcelain icy from its presence and surprising early morning visitors with a frigid kiss. All of this cold air causes some definite problems with shower-induced wet head.

No matter what time of year, or the temperature of the air, the one thing that I absolutely cannot stand is when another person touches my wet hair. It makes me shudder just to think about it. Knowing this, my husband takes great pleasure in trying to hug me and pet my head when it is wet. This makes me so upset that I often become incensed and feel the sudden and all encompassing need to cry and sometimes shout. I don’t know why, so please don’t ask.

It’s just another of those weirdnesses that don’t make sense to other people. Like the need for the toe ridge of the top of one’s socks to be lined up perfectly so that it doesn’t rub along the side of one’s foot while inside of a shoe. That sort of a thing could make a person break down in the middle of a crowded mall or even in church.