Bad Habits

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By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher

I am acutely aware that my brain works in mysterious ways.  I percolate on such random things in my little mind in a rather unique fashion, and many times, these odd perspectives just come out – unadulterated and unfiltered.  I would say they give voice unexpectedly, but I suspect Mr. Kaminski would have a different opinion as he has grown accustomed to expecting the unexpected from me.  I think that’s a plus – keeps things interesting.  I don’t know how Mr. Kaminski feels about this, as I dare not inquire.

It’s not that I don’t possess a filter.  I can behave when I must, but it does require significant effort.  Plus, it’s just not as much fun.  So many times, I’m just not in the mood to exert that extra effort.  I believe that happenstance increased significantly in my fifties when my “give a damn” broke.

I suppose it could be said this is a bad habit of mine – speaking my mind, sharing my thoughts whether complete, appropriate or solicited.  Just the other day, I exclaimed to Mr. Kaminski quite excitedly, “I made $20!”

“Good for you?” he remarked carefully and quizzically.

“Yep, found it in your pocket.  I’m like a mob boss – look at me earning!”

Mr. Kaminski never uttered a syllable.

Then there was the jammie situation.  After taking a long, hot bath one night, I donned my favorite flannel Ralph Lauren pajamas, only to be annoyed when I glanced in the mirror and saw the large R L insignia on my jammie pocket.

“Why am I wearing pajamas with other people’s initials on them?  These aren’t Ralph’s pj’s, they’re mine, and it hurts my feelings that my initials aren’t on here.  This could lead to an identity crisis,” I proclaimed to Mr. Kaminski.

“Do you want me to get you some pajamas with your initials on them?” Mr. Kaminski queried.

“I do, I really do,” I replied in earnest.  Maybe I’ll get some personalized PPK pajamas for Christmas.  A girl can hope.

Then there was the hair situation that reared its ugly head, so to speak.

“Look at my hair!” I proclaimed excitedly to Mr. Kaminski after seeing gray streaks artistically scattered throughout my mane.  “God is giving me highlights for free.  All I have to do is be alive!”

A smile coupled with silence was his response.  I’ve about decided that Mr. Kaminski believes silence is golden when it comes to my thought sharing.  Either that or he is just so flabbergasted by me and the folks who live in my head, it renders him speechless.  Either way, it works for me.  See y’all next week – on the porch!  Ho, ho hugs!

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Patti Parish-Kaminski

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