Quirks

Some people frankly write about their quirks. If I had any, I would tell you so. Though no outlandish trait within me lurks, some folks think I’m a nut. What do they know? Why do they criticize when I engage in conversations with myself. What’s wrong with them? Also, they frequently enrage me, looking shocked when I burst into song while jogging through the neighborhood at night clad in my red muu-muu and army boots. I overhear them saying, “What a sight!” I live around mean-spirited old coots! My grandkids, too, think my behavior strange. because I check the stove repeatedly (I must be SURE it’s off!) and rearrange my papers fifteen times. They’re irked at me when I repeat myself five times a day. I do this for THEIR benefit! They just do not appreciate wise things I say. One learns by repetition; it’s a MUST. I surely hope I’ve made this crystal clear: I have no oddball quirks; I’m truly blessed with wholesome traits that, I feel, should endear me to all those who criticize and jest! FICTIONAL (well--some of it)) Date written and posted: February 6, 2018 Contest Title: Quirks Placed 5th (of ten) Sponsor: Madison Demetros April 10, 2019, entered in Richard Lamoureau's Poem of the Day Contest When I received this honor--POTD February 8, 2018--I was over the MOON!