Random childhood memories: Vol. I

Those who know me well (or who read yesterday's post) likely know that I've got a touch, just a touch, of obsessive compulsive disorder. Nothing major -- I'm not running around licking light switches like David Sedaris -- but I do have a hearty appreciation for order, efficiency and routine.

I'm happy to report this touch, just a touch, of obsessive compulsive disorder has grown milder over the years. Today I'll recount my earliest memory of it.

I was going to Kreative Kids, my day care in Florida. (Sidebar: Why is it that day cares always have misspellings? Doesn't it seem like children should be taught correct spellings?) Mom had given me my children's chewables Flintstones vitamin (I think it was one of the purple ones that day, but I can't be certain) and for whatever reason that day I decided to see how long I could save it in my mouth.

Those vitamins are so sweet they're sour, and as I held against my cheek on the way to school, it left me puckered and almost grimacing. About halfway to Kreative Kids, I was feeling very uneven, very uncomfortable that Fred Flintstone had soured only one half of my mouth.

And it was then that tragedy struck: In the transfer from the right side of my mouth to left, I chomped. Fred, already soft and small, was obliterated. My left cheek went from watering in anticipation to screaming out in anger that it would be left out.

I was unsettled the whole day.