Misophonia

There is most certainly a reason that the natural progression of life has children moving out of their homes at 18. You get to this point in your life and you spread your wings and fly off to the mystical land known as a University and live happily ever after, missing your parents just enough when you're away, and then visiting for brief, loving, holiday breaks only to return to your personal palace when the semester begins again.

Unfortunately some of us were brutally beaten down by the evil troll known as the economy and were forced to live at home through our college years. Now, don't get me wrong -- I love my parents. As far as parental units go, mine are pretty much the tits. However, after 22 years under their benevolent reign, I have discovered some rather annoying traits that they both harbor and use against me daily.

For starters -- you should all know that I suffer from a mild case of Misophonia. (def: literally meaning "hatred of sound," a condition characterized by a diminished ability to tolerate certain noises, including everyday noises such as talking, chewing, or yawning. - medterms.com). Now I should also clarify that my Misophonia is unbelievably selective and centers almost entirely around the sounds of my father eating.

The man drives me mad. It has gotten to the point where when he starts making himself a meal I move into the other room. Where normal people would be called out for "slurping" soup, I have to remind my father that biting the metal spoon every time it enters his mouth is completely unnecessary and makes a sound so unbearable it causes my teeth ache. He is also "so manly" that all of his food is required to be heated to a point such that he CANNOT close his mouth when eating it. Upon being asked why he prefers his food scorching to the point of pain he replies, "because it tastes better." (I'm sure you can all feel my eyes rolling back into my head as I try to understand how one can even taste something over the pain of hell upon one's tongue.)

Please, do not even get me started on the procession that is eating cereal - let alone Rice Frakking Krispies. I love my father to pieces but I am about one spoonful of peanut butter away from sewing his mouth shut and installing a G-tube. /rant. <3

-MP