the hugger

Sometimes I think I could write my own seinfeld-esque show about the people in my life. I think Larry David had the right idea. One storyline would be based on this person I know at church. She unfortunately is a hugger. Oh man, it gives me the chills just typing it. Anytime she comes withing a five-foot radius she is hugging all over me. And she's just so dang happy to see me. And not just a light nice-to-see-you hug. No, these hugs are full-on, squeezy, rub-backy hugs. Ugh. And I am not a hugger. Help me.

I am not saying I'm not loving or nice or anything. And I think I am affectionate as well. But my hugs are sincere, and if I hug you, I really mean it or I haven't seen you in ten years or your dog just got hit by a car or you're my child. That's pretty much it. Not every stinkin' time I see you.

I really, really like my personal space. It's in my DNA. At the Marshall family reunions we would kind of sort of get our shoulders close and pat on the back. That was as close to a hug as we ever came. And truly, we loved each other. But just don't hug us please.

So now when I see this person heading down my hall I will turn around and jump in the nearest doorway. Isn't that pathetic? Is there something wrong with me? I'm wondering if anyone else is like that out there or if it's just me. It makes me wonder what little quirks people have.