Why do they call wanting to have everything orderly a disorder?  "Obsessive compulsive disorder" is a misnomer for sure.  I understand OCD people.  I like to have everything orderly, but I'm not obsessive about it.  I feel compelled to put things right if I have the time and the inclination to do so, but I'm otherwise able to ignore the problem.  I don't have to jump right up to straighten the picture, but I'll be sure to do it before I leave the room.  I believe in leaving the room, or the world, in better shape than when I came in.  I live by the maxim, "If not me, who?  If not now, when?"  It's what I call "having a sense of responsibility."

Things should be orderly.  It was pleasing when Adam recently pointed out to me that it was "palindrome day."  02022020 read the same forward and backward.  A few days later I noticed that it was 02202020 (February 20, 2020).

I have a game that I play with myself.  As I came back to bed after a trip to the bathroom last night, I was pleased to note that my digital clock said 3:21.  That's a significant number.  I had to stay awake for the next 12 minutes so that I could observe the next significant number:  3:33.  I must have fallen asleep during the following 12 minutes because I missed seeing 3:45.  Significant numbers are always 12 minutes apart.

The most significant numbers on my digital clock are 11:11 and 12:34, which, thankfully, I'm rarely awake to see; and 4:44 and 4:56.  The reason the latter two are the most significant of the significant numbers is because each individual number is formed on a digital clock by that same number of strokes.  A 4 requires four strokes to form.  A square 5 requires five, and a 6 requires six.  Significant.

I don't consider myself quirky, but I like things to be orderly.  If I was a bachelor, I wouldn't be living in a disorderly and dirty house like many bachelors do.  I don't understand that mentality.  That's quirky.

My boys took note of my penchant for orderliness.  I didn't find out until many years later that they played upon that penchant.  One said to the others, "Watch this," and opened and left open cupboard doors and drawers in the kitchen.  Dad entered the room and methodically closed the doors and drawers before doing whatever he had come into the room to do.  As he did so, he wondered to himself why in the world people would be so careless.  The boys were huddled just around the corner silently laughing hysterically.

Funny is in the eye of the beholder.

Adam has carried their boyhood game to new heights (or depths, as the case may be).  Dan Kolilis is a fellow member of Adam's ward.  On the fifth Sunday of the month, the adults of the ward have to meet all together in the gym.  This requires the setting up of chairs.  Normal people make neat rows with an aisle between the right and left sections.  Knowing that Dan is very OCD, Adam purposely offsets the rows.  When Dan enters, if there is time, he hurries to straighten out the disorder while Adam gleefully giggles just around the corner.  He hasn't changed a bit.  If there isn't time to make the rearrangement Dan sits unhearingly through the meeting while grumbling that it isn't even possible to feel the Spirit amid such disorder.