Here’s a quirk for you:
I absolutely hate it when anyone touches my neck. Specifically, I am referring to the front of my neck. I don’t mind so much if somebody touches the back of my neck, but I freak out when somebody touches my windpipe.
This probably begs the question, how many people are actually trying to touch my neck? Well, it’s not that many, but for the ones who try, watch out. I’ll karate chop you.
I don’t even let my husband touch my neck. Sometimes he does it just to irritate me but I have a conniption fit whenever he does.
And you know the adorable way that children wrap their arms around your neck and hang off you lovingly? Well I hate that too. Csilla is not even allowed to touch my neck.
In fact, come to think of it, I’m not even allowed to touch my neck.
I must have been strangled to death in a past life or something…