Thankful Day 28

November 28: Good Tags
I hesitated severely about putting this onto the world wide web. In an attempt to be very transparent though, here it is. If you know me at all, you know about my obsession with soft tags. You know that the best tags are found on comforters and that target receipts can sometimes suffice, especially for my littlest sister (who has the same fetish). My best friends in the world have actually mastered the task of finding a “good tag” and can now pick them out for me. Savannah once stood in a store for hours feeling of the tags of what I assume to be a massive amount of ugly dolls to pick out the one with the best tag to send me as a “get well soon” present when I shattered my face. She did a phenomenal job. If you have no idea what I am talking about, welcome to my life. I am crazier than you thought.

This tag fetish began when I was an infant. The problem is that I never grew out of it. My mom says that when I was in my crib, I could find the tag on any stuffed animal and/or blanket and put it up to my face to feel of it while I sucked my thumb. Yes I was a thumb sucker….until a really embarrassing age. I have finally kicked that habit though, in case you were wondering. (First things first.) Further, when I was 2 years old, my Grandmommy gave me a stuffed elephant for Christmas. Great present right? My all-time favorite animal in stuffed form. Should have been a hit. However, (and we have this on video) I took the elephant out of its box, squealed in delight and then immediately started the search for a soft tag…which it did not have. I promptly looked at the animal in disgust and put it back in the box, closed the box, put the bow sloppily on the top and handed it back to my Grandmommy. She laughed and asked me what I was doing, and I told her it didn’t have a good tag and so I didn’t want it. If I was her, I would have slapped me in the face but she just hugged and kissed me and laughed at my ridiculousness. So help me God if my future daughter is just like I was…(I kind of hope she is). So, instead, God so help my future husband if my future daughter is just like me.

I mentioned that my littlest sister Brittney has the exact same fetish. Weird huh? She prefers Target receipts to anything else, which I cannot understand for the life of me. There was one instance when both of us had receipts (and the only way to properly execute a receipt is to “feel it with your face”) and so we both had receipts on our faces and a friend in the back seat finally exclaimed: “Y’ALL ARE SO WEIRD!” We looked at each other and erupted into laughter because before she addressed it, we were completely unaware of what we were doing. It’s involuntary. And plus, we pride ourselves on being weird. And as I re-read this paragraph I am embarrassed for both of us.

Obviously I don’t care that much because this is just going to get weirder. A good tag can calm me down and/or make me feel better if I am having a bad day. They especially aid in anxiety. I don’t know how to explain this, but it’s like having a blanket when you are shivering. Or soup when you are sick. I LOVE a good tag, y’all. I can get a buzz off of finding a perfect one, which I did last weekend on Karla’s bed comforter. I can find them on anything. Towels, pillows….the inside of Bethany’s purse. It’s uncanny actually, and my best friends would agree. So judge me if you want, but tags are here to stay.

Last night I was having a bit of a rough night, and was laying on Briggs’ bed talking, when Behnke came bopping in and said “Ally look what I brought you!” In her left hand was a jumbo box of nerds and in her right hand was a PHENOMENAL tag that she had ripped from some unknowing object. She said “is this a good one??!” It was. It so totally was! I almost cried because my new Denver friends are really starting to really know me. And, oh my gracious God, I am so very thankful. For the friends, and for the good tags they bring me when I need a little pick-me-up.