I thought I may have escaped the weird thing tag, but no. Thanks Alison. So here we go: I wear contact lenses. Not weird in itself, but before I can put them in, I have to point to the appropriate eye and say out loud "left, right". Like I am a simpleton. Which, really, I'm not. When I was a toddler, my mother gave me a drink in a glass and I started running with it and need I say more. In defence of my mother, I was her first child. Anyway, I had quite a nasty gash right between my eyebrows which need stitching. When Mum came to get me out of my cot the next morning, I had picked all my stitches out. Yes, my stomach turns at the thought. But that's not all. She rushed me back to get more stitches and next day, yes, you guessed it, same thing. Ground hog day for poor Mum as she took me back AGAIN to be re-stitched. One million dollars to the person who can guess what happened next? A-ha, I did it AGAIN. But this time, my mother didn't take me back. Can you believe that she would leave me to suffer like that? Which leads to point number three. I am a compulsive picker. Each night before I go to bed during school term, I have to get everything out on the bench for breakfast the next morning. Bowls, spoons, cereal boxes. If we are having porridge, I have to measure it out and put it in the microwave bowl, ready for the milk to be added. It all sits neatly on the bench. I put the coffee in my cup. I make sure the kettle is full. I get the toaster out. I live in the misguided belief that this saves me a good hour in the mornings. I am a "silent labourer". Which doesn't mean that I will quietly build you a house. When I am in labour, I don't make a sound. How good a wife would I have made Tom Cruise? If you walked past my house now and heard me yelling at my children, you may find this hard to believe. But I just find the whole thing so intense that I can't even open my mouth. If I am asked a question mid contraction, apparently I just stare with my eyes popping out of my head. I'm answering the question quite coherently in my head, but I just can't open my mouth. But give me an epidural and I can't shut up. I Internet "browse" for fabric all the time. Every day in fact. I have a compulsive disorder for visiting on-line fabric stores and just serial browsing. I live in fear that these shops have site meters and they know who I am and when I eventually do order, they will have alarms and flashing lights that will go off alerting them to the fact that fabric stalking girl is finally ordering. So there it is, some little insights into my weirdness. And in a salute to Little Cookies, I am going to tagAmanda, Bindi, Courtney, Dolly, Anna-Nicole and Kath Day-Knight. Just because I am fascinated as to what would make them weird ... Happy Australia Day for tomorrow.