Everyone has a Thing – what’s yours?

Everyone has a Thing. Yours might be seatbelts. Or salami. Microwaves. Even dogs.  Germs are a popular Thing. So is mobile phone radiation. And plastic is racing up the Thing charts with a bullet especially among those who’ve read the enviro-porn book “Slow Death By Rubber Duck”.

Put simply, your Thing is related to a perceived threat to your health and safety.  Faced with it, you become extremely vigilant. Neurotic. Paranoid even. If you’re uncertain what your Thing is, ask your loved ones. They’ll know oh yes they will.

My friend’s husband, for example, has a germ Thing. “Joe is freaked out by public toilets and will only touch surfaces with his elbow” she explains. “He’s also weird about ATMs and pushes the buttons through his sleeves. Wow, he sounds like a catch….”

I can relate. I’m extremely dexterous with my elbows. I too am a catch.

Things should not be confused with eccentricities, which are merely odd. Like refusing to touch BluTak or being scared of garden gnomes.

Actual Things are different. They’re usually grounded in science or at least something you once heard on the radio.  After one friend learnt about all the bacteria in processed meat while she was pregnant seven years ago, she never recovered. “I’ll happily scoff re-heated chicken from the local take out but when I was served prosciutto with melon at a dinner party recently, I panicked” she says. “I couldn’t even eat the melon because it had touched the meat. Do NOT get me started on salami. Oh God…”

Interestingly, one person’s Thing is another person’s Who Cares. I discovered this when my kids starting having friends over to play. “Make sure he re-applies sunscreen every hour and wears his hat at all times,” one mother will say, passing the mobile to her toddler so he can say hi to Daddy. “She can’t go in the car without the correct child restraint, even if it’s just down the road,” warns another who doesn’t give a rats about hats. “Don’t let him talk on a mobile phone because of the radiation,” cautions a third while ferrying around 14 children in the boot of her car.

Need further confirmation that everyone has an individual source of paranoia? I suggest you play What’s Your Thing next time you’re in a group of adults. It’s a hoot. But be warned: Things can be contagious if you are as suggestible as me.

One of my friends has a plastic Thing: “Last year I chucked out all my plastic storage containers because I couldn’t remember the evil numbers on the bottom that you should stay away from. Now I take my breakfast to work in a glass jam jar and everyone laughs at me but I don’t care because I’m not ingesting toxic chemicals.”

Another friend insists: “I will only wear aluminum-free deodorant because I read somewhere aluminum is linked to Alzheimer’s.”

A third has a Thing about drink driving and will not get behind the wheel if she’s had even a tiny sip of alcohol.

Then there’s the couple I know who pull all their appliances out of the wall before they go on holidays in case a sudden surge of electricity bursts through and sets fire to their house.

“I won’t let anyone borrow my make-up,” says my cousin whose Thing is conjunctivitis and cold sores. “And I won’t ever share a drink.”

Intruders are another common Thing. “I’m paranoid beyond speech about having our house broken into at night” shudders my friend Liana. “I never sleep nude or even partially nude in case I have to run outside and scream for help and I keep a portable panic button under my pillow. I also have to sleep on the side of the bed nearest the door so I have a fast escape  – even in a hotel room. Oh, and since I had kids? It’s become ten times worse.”

It always does. When you have children, suddenly you’re not just freaked out about your own health and safety but theirs too. It’s exhausting.

I think the most entertaining part about playing What’s Your Thing is that everybody believes their own Thing represents a clear and present danger while loudly mocking yours.

For example, one of my Things is wireless. I don’t like it and I try to avoid using it. My friend Karen thinks I’m completely nuts. “I have no Thing,” she scoffs. “I’m totally normal. I just like windows closed at night. Completely. Locked with the keys removed. I can’t relax if they’re open, even a little bit, even if it’s on a security setting. Even if it’s two stories up. Or ten. Because someone could break in and steal my children. “

Unfortunately, the person you live with rarely shares your thing and this can be challenging. “Because Sam doesn’t care about the damn windows, sometimes he’ll insist on leaving them open a crack to let fresh air in during summer,” continues Karen. “There is NO WAY I can sleep like that so of course I have to wait until he goes to sleep and then sneak around closing them.”

Now that’s not nuts at all.

What is your thing? How much does it impact your life?