I love Family Tea night - to say it often descends into poor taste is a gross understatement - gross being the keyword. It's almost like having a cluster of us there causes us to exaggerate those traits that makes us so similar and so different, a parody of ourselves. A competition to play up on our 'unusual' sense of humour, our tendency to hold multiple conversations at once and those in-jokes that have been changed and diluted over 20 something years.
Last week I mentioned to my family that I'd bought some ear cleaning drops - I've noticed more often of late that I have to physically turn my ear to someone or something when there is a lot of background noise in order to hear clearly. I told them I'd also 'read on the internet' (code for blogs and podcasts) some stories about people who'd had issue from cleaning their ears with those ear cleaners that are not meant to be used for ears, so thought I should try some other method - in case I have actually been pushing years of wax down into that canal.
Youngest bro was the first to pipe up with just how much he loves cleaning his ears, followed quickly by middle bro and eldest bro.
Youngest bro cleans his out a few times a week, whilst eldest bro only does it on Sundays - a day he looks forward to precisely because he can jam that thing in his ear and wiggle it around. Middle bro started reminiscing about the days when dadsy would clean out our ears - we'd have to line up and he'd dig around in there - though I don't remember it being any kind of pleasurable... in fact, the only thing I remember is that there is a spot in my left ear that would cause me to cough when it got knocked by the ear cleaner.
Suprisingly, mumsy and dadsy looked on in horror, wondering where on earth our combined love for this act came from. The Hun and eldest bro's gf also did not understand - neither of them do it often enough for our liking.
I will admit that I absolutely love the feeling of cleaning my ears - I do it roughly twice a week, and The Hun can attest to the fact that I will stand in the middle of the loungeroom with a goofy smile on my face as I go to town on it. I don't know what it is precisely, because it is very rare that there is actually anything on the bud, but it's something that I could do for hours, or wish could go on for hours.
So how about you?
Do you indulge in this guilty naughty pleasure?
Do you have a different guilty naughty pleasure?