It’s terrible how things from your youth manage to creep up on you as you are older. Ironing, for instance. After all the mountains of ironing I did as a kid, I swore when I got grown I’d never iron. Then the miracle of permanent press and dryers came along. Voila! For forty years, I wore clothes hung up straight from the dryer. Those items that required a bit of pressing were hung in the closet and passed over time after time till I just had to wear them, like to a funeral, wedding, or special event. A dress or blouse might spend five years in the dark only to be discarded when I tired of reaching over it. I had no problem wearing polyester or blends if they spared me ironing. Of course, as a nurse, I wore non-descript scrubs…
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Nutsrok 
That is hilarious. My friends laugh at me for my rules about waving at motorists when we’re walking to the creek. On THIS side of the highway, I hail all cars, no matter which way they are going. On the OTHER side, I wave only to oncoming cars. There are other refinements, but my rules are nothing like yours. You take the cake for rules and humor.
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Now I might have to do wave rules. My mother has to touch her dor knock and do three rounds of “lock, lock, lock” before she can go to bed.
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My wave rules don’t help me sleep, but I’ll bet your mother’s rules do.
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