Mama always says that I’m organized and that Jewel must get her inclination to put things away from my side of the gene pool, which is the shallow end, for those of you keeping score at home.
What I’ve tried to explain to Mama is that I’m the least organized person I know, but that I’m more impatient than I am disorganized. As a result, I’ve trained myself into certain habits that keep me from wasting time. However, they have limits…ask me where my keys are and I can always tell you. Ask me where last year’s tax return is and, well, you might as well ask me what Kepler’s Third Law is.
Actually, that’s a bad parallel, since I know what Kepler’s Third Law is, having had to explain it to 3B as we go through the nerd alphabet that hangs in his room. And I can Google Kepler’s Third Law…last year’s tax returns? Not so much.
But, perhaps I wouldn’t ever lose our returns if I gave them to Jewel to file. She puts everything away when she’s done with it and takes her trash straight to the trash can, which makes one of us in Casa Bradstein who does all of that.
Honestly, it’s a little eerie to watch. It’s as if we were dropped onto the set of Night of the Living OCD. At first, I don’t think we noticed the pattern because Jewel is so quiet and unassuming about it. Unlike her brother, who seriously had me set up an audience of stuffed animals for his slide guitar concert last night because in rock videos “there’s always thousands of people in the audience,” Jewel will simply finish playing with a toy, stand up, walk it across the room and deposit it where it belongs before moving on to her next activity.
No fans. No fanfare. Just fine motor skills at work.
Jewel is either less patient than I am, or she swims in the deep end of the gene pool. Being her proud Papa, I know it’s the latter, of course. Also, the former isn’t possible.
Word of the day: bump. It’s Jewel’s most recent favorite word and she uses it all the time.