About Spilled Cheese

I never used to be very emotional. I could hold myself together quite well, and it took a lot for me to tear up. Now, as I get older, I cry at the simplest things. Silly TV shows make me cry. For example, I was watching a show with Josh the other day called Alaska Gold Rush. It's about a group of men who have given up everything to find gold in Alaska. At the end of the episode, it ended with them only finding $12 worth of gold when they were expecting to find thousands of dollars of gold. One of the men was crying as he talked about everything he had lost along the way. As I was sitting there watching, I teared up and had to walk away so Josh wouldn't see me crying.

So it didn't surprise me yesterday when I lost it. And it was over cheese. I'm a nut case!

Josh was at my place doing homework. I also had some school work to do, so we sat quietly for about an hour doing homework. I finished before he did, so I decided to clean the kitchen. My OCD was screaming in my head, so I needed to quiet the voices. I spent about 40 minutes deep cleaning my kitchen, and when I was done, the voices quieted and I knew I would be able to enjoy my day without thinking about my kitchen.

By then it was lunch time, so Josh entered my kitchen.

Before I continue my story, let me explain that for as extreme OCD I am, Josh is the extreme the other way. It's one of the things that drives me crazy about him. He's sloppy. He's messy. He doesn't like to use plates, so he eats off his hands. When he prepares food, he doesn't wipe off the counter and leaves crumbs trailing behind him. I am constantly following behind him picking up this mess. He knows it drives me crazy, but it's one of those things he thinks is funny so he continues to do it.

So when Josh entered my kitchen (my clean kitchen), I followed behind to make sure he didn't destroy my cleanliness. I helped him get a plate. I gave him a container to heat up his meat. When he put it in the microwave without a lid, I stopped the microwave and put a lid on it so it wouldn't splatter the insides. I got out the cheese for him.

He finally asked, "Why are you in the kitchen?" I replied, "To help you get lunch." He said, "Is that why you're really in here?" I honestly answered, "Well, I'm in here making sure you're not making a mess." He laughed, "Oh, I see. Now the truth comes out. You're not here to help me. You're here to monitor me. It would be a shame to "accidentally" spill some cheese." And he "accidentally" dropped some cheese on the counter. "Oops."

I lost it. With tears in my eyes, I ran into my bedroom. He followed me to check on me. He saw I was crying. Like the good boyfriend that he is, he asked why I was so upset. Sobbing, I said, "You threw cheese on my counter after I just spent 40 minutes cleaning."

He just started laughing and laughing. I replayed my words in my head, and I started laughing through my tears. Yes, I could hear how ridiculous it sounded. I was upset about cheese.

He said, "Baby, you're upset about cheese?" Laughing.
"Yes." Sobbing. Laughing. Sniffle. Wipe.
"I'm sorry for spilling the cheese. I didn't realize it would make you so upset." More laughing.
"I just deep cleaned that kitchen, and then you purposely made a mess. I know it's silly, but you upset me." Tears. Giggles. Wipe. Sniffle. Giggles.
"I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. Are you OK?" Laughing.
"I'm fine. But go clean up the cheese." Laughing.

He cleaned up the kitchen to near perfect condition after he was all done, and we had a good laugh about it later that day.

Yes, I know. I'm crazy. I cried over spilled cheese. At least it wasn't over spilled milk!