It Bothers Me When People Don’t Know Me

A photo of a cup of coffee.

Image via Wikipedia

Sometimes it bothers me when people I love and care about don’t remember little things about me.  It’s not significant.  It’s a minor thing.

There are a few things in this world – mostly food – that I simply do not care for, and I have gone above and beyond to make known all the little things I do not like.  I know what you’re thinking.  Suck it up, and remove the offensive things from your line of sight, don’t eat them and move on.  And I agree wholeheartedly with you.  Really, I do.  And I absolutely CAN remove said offensive things, no problem.

But sometimes… it just bothers me.

Whenever I visit my parents, they are constantly asking several times if I would like coffee.  I don’t drink coffee.  I never have and probably never will.  Who’s to say what will happen ten years down the road when I am a coffee junkie looking for my next fix so badly that I steal an IV to pump it through my veins.  But right now, I don’t like coffee.  My parents know that.  They have always known that.  And yet, they still continue to ask.  I wonder if it’s just a means to being polite, or if they just can’t remember that even though I live below the Mason Dixon I still don’t drink coffee.

Mister sometimes forgets little things about me, too.  And that’s normally fine.  I can make a joke by introducing myself to him as if we’ve never met and move on.  But there are times when it’s just too much to let go.  And it’s this tiny, little, insignificant thing.  And yet it still bothers me. 

I don’t blame Mister for not remembering.  We’ve only been married for 6 months, together again for good for 20 months, and he’s is just now, over the past year, learning about all of my little quirks.  For my  parents?  There is no excuse.  They have known me for all of my 28 years and so far nothing has changed.

Often, it feels like people don’t want to take the time to remember all the little things.  But then again, there are A LOT of little things.  I mean, a CRAP-TON of little things.  It hurts my feelings sometimes when people forget. 

But it’s not important.  I can suck it up and move passed it.  But sometimes… it just bothers me.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: