I am a perfectionist. It runs in the family. I see it in my brother. I realize that we both see things the same way. We even perceive color the same way. It's cool.
David playfully taunts my perfectionism. We have a massive willow tree that grows quickly and sheds all over the yard. Last summer, he was trimming the trees in the yard and I was sitting on the porch reading. He trimmed the weeping branches and purposefully left one branch uncut! He laughed and taunted, and it drove me friggin' NUTS! Later in the year, he did it again. He doesn't tell me; I just notice it. It's the way I am. I am a perfectionist. I feel more normal with my brother around because he's a perfectionist too.
Child of the Sixties
3 weeks ago