Why Do I Do That?

“Row 3.” I repeat that twice out loud to myself as I walk into the store. Why? Because if I don’t, I will inevitably spend three minutes walking around the parking lot after I come out with my groceries looking for my car.

I turn my car off and immediately turn it back on and off again. Why do I do that? Because I have an irrational fear that my car is not in park and will roll off a hill or into my apartment – unbeknownst to me – while I am covering up the evidence of a burnt dinner and surrendering to my usual Cheerios again. Reasonable.

Our quirks are all different, but we all have them. Some are justified. Some silly. Sensible or not, the people who love you will appreciate the things that make you special. They will never ask why. They will understand that you simply are fearfully and wonderfully made and accept your entire package.

When your friends get out of your car and say, “Row 3, Row 3” before you can, keep those people in your life. The guy or gal who tells you that Cheerios are exactly what they were hoping to have for dinner and will carry your burnt pasta out to the trash without mentioning it – they love you.

Not everyone has a place in your world. You’ll recognize the people who have no place. They are the ones who will roll their eyes and ask, “Why do you do that?” when you talk to yourself all of the time.

They will leave you feeling immature for getting so excited about simple things like finding pennies. They will not understand why you whisper to yourself “you’re safe” before you fall asleep. They won’t appreciate your admiration for Disney movies or your compulsion to bury your hash browns in ketchup.

So, the next time you leave wet towels on the floor or drive to McDonald’s at 10 p.m. for a McFlurry, look around for the people who judge and the ones who say, “Pick me up an Oreo one and stop by my place before you go home!” (Thank you, Jeremy Matthey and Jon Boney!)

Determining who belongs in my life, that’s exactly why I do that.

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