Wednesday, January 31, 2007

It's All Genetic

I come from a family of packrats. Can’t help it, it’s genetic.

Before you pooh-pooh my reasoning, let me just say I learned about these genetic quirks the hard way. My husband showed up for our first date fifteen minutes early (can I get a sympathetic murmur?). I wasn’t running late or anything though I was a bit worried. I had worked that day and came out to my car to find I’d left the lights on. I had a date to an Abba concert (stop working out the math) and needed to get ready. Thankfully I also had a manager with a romantic streak as well as jumper cables. I rushed home and was actually quite pleased with myself that I would be ready on time—on time being the operative words. Fifteen minutes before he was due to arrive, my tall handsome date rang the doorbell. I remember calling out to him while he waited in the living room. “God will get you for this.” After twenty-six years, I’m not really sure who God got.

Fast forward a couple years. Phil took me back to New York for the first time. His dad’s side of the family was coming over for a BBQ that was to start at noon. So there we were—my mother-in-law, my sister-in-law and me—feeding little ones and having a bite of breakfast for ourselves when we heard a car pull in. It was nine o’clock in the morning and the guests were starting to arrive. That’s when I realized it was genetic. I also thanked God that Phil only had a mild case—I could live with an obsession to always be fifteen minutes early. Three hours would have caused either divorce or homicide.

That’s also when I started looking at habits I’d picked up. I still have my grandfather’s journals, my great-aunt’s greeting cards and newspapers of major events that my mother collected. And that doesn’t even begin to count all the pictures and notes and cards I’ve collected on my own. It drives my husband a wee bit batty but then I figure turn-about is fair play.

Do you have any genetic quirks (and I say that with the nicest of definitions) that you can blame on family? Or, better yet, does a loved one have a genetic quirk you blame on someone other than you? Please share—don’t leave me to think it’s only my family. You’ll feel better if you tell.

Abundant blessings!
Jenny

7 comments:

~michelle pendergrass said...

When something is on sale (like clearance price) we seem to really, really stock up.

So when crayons are twenty cents and spiral notebooks are ten, let's just say we have plenty'o'supplies. ;)

Becky said...

One thing I've noticed in my family. I had a grandma who let's just say she had a schedule of her own. She wouldn't even start getting ready to go until it was time to be there. She was always running at least half an hour late...if not an hour. My sister seems to have this tendency to run on 'Grandma' time, though not nearly as bad. My great-aunt, my grandmother's sister, on the other hand perhaps to counterbalance her sister's behavior, always runs half an hour to an hour early everywhere she goes!

Heather said...

Well, let's see, my hubby is both the chronic late one and the packrat. I refuse to acquiesce to his packratedness (mostly because I'm a recovering one myself and desperately want to be a minimalist, so I'm a little bitter that once I achieved my minimal state - heehee - I'm coupled with a packrat), but I must admit, I have adjusted my clock to his. It was a battle I couldn't fight. So now, every once in a while (mostly on Sunday mornings), he's ready and waiting for me. Serves him right.

J. M. Hochstetler said...

I had an aunt who was like Becky's grandma, and I have to admit, I'm alway running late, whereas my dh always wants to arrive at least 15 minutes early to scope out the situation, which is so NOT good when you're going to someone's party! Needless to say, this has caused some, let us say, tension between us, though he generally manages to bite his tongue.

After my parents died, when we cleaned out their house, I found out how much of a packrat my daddy was. So THAT'S where I got it....!

Anonymous said...

I seem to take after my dad, who was always 15 minutes early (at least). Mom ran late. She also regularly sifted my trash back when I was a child, afraid I'd thrown away some scrap of something she would rather stick in a closet for the next thirty years, so I'm definitely not a pack rat.

My dh is, however. Every few weeks there comes a point where I tell him he must deal with his piles or they all get swept into the first box I can find, and carted out to the shed. And I'm always ready before he is, too. I must have inherited that inner clock from my dad. I've learned to ALWAYS have a book on hand to read while I wait. With the amount of research that goes into writing an historical, that's no problem. *s*

I don't know where my mom got the pack rat thing. I grew up with her parents living in the same house, and they were minimalist, and always on time, too. Must skip a generation.

Lori

Jenny said...

Oh, I feel so much better! lol
Abundant blessings,
Jenny

Anonymous said...

HEY JC!
Yet more thing we have in common! My darling husband showed up 30 min. early for our first date! Gee, it exlains a LOT about our men, huh!

Love ya!
LB