Quirky? Who me?

Almost two months ago, my friend at Pink Explosion, posted about what makes her quirky. I told her, waaaaay back then, that I would soon post a few things that make me quirky. Yea well, it has been so not soon, but here it is:

· I think the only right way to unload the dishwasher is to start with the bottom rack; that way, if there is any water left on the top dishes, it doesn’t spill onto your clean dishes on the bottom.

· I am not bothered by the hubby watching beach volleyball. But I don’t feel the same about him watching, oh say, the Victoria’s Secret smut fashion show. Sports versus a drool-inducing parade of scantily-clad supermodels. I’m cool with sports.

· I just started eating corn…within the last few months. I grew up not liking it…or at least I thought I didn’t. I can’t remember how many times I actually tried it…but I know I always snubbed my nose at it. Sometime last year, a friend made corn on the cob that had been brushed with mayo (which I don’t eat) and rolled in Parmesan cheese…de-lish. I had that again recently, so then I had this desire for hubs to make some on the grill. Oh, but I don’t eat it off the cob…I cut it off and then enjoy.

· I like roller-coasters. I don’t mind flipping upside-down at all. But do not put me on something that spins ‘round & ‘round. Like the Spider, the Tilt-a-whirl or whatever the heck that ride is that always has the loudest music blasting while you ride. I’m a flipper, not a spinner.

· I tried to be a dog owner…I just don’t think it’s my bag. Sure, it could be the kind of dog I had…of the terrier breed…but he drove me mad. When I was pregnant with my son, it was 8000 degrees outside and I had a 15 month old on my hip. That dog squirted out the front door and I did.not.chase.him. When hubs got home from work, we drove around and found him sitting on a porch around the corner. Those people were sad that he was ours, but we told them that they could have him if they wanted. The lady took our number, called her husband to discuss it…and we were packing him up an hour later. Bye, bye doggie. Better to give him away rather than not really want him, right?

· If my hubby or the kids don’t finish their meal, don’t count on me to finish it. I don’t want to eat off your fork or eat the food that you have already eaten off of. And as much as I love ice cream, I will not take a lick off of anyone else’s cone. Nope. Not me. Gross.

Let's hear what makes you quirky...post about it or leave a comment.

Happy Monday!