T Street, San Clemente, CA
I suppose I should preface this by telling you that I heard this story from my parents about a year or two ago....
When I was a little girl, my Grandma Connie would take me to the beach (
here) and she would read a book while I played with the other kids on the beach. Lo and behold, I approached my grandma with sand all over my little 5 year old's hands one day and told her that they were dirty. "Yes, Aimee - they are" to which I replied "but what am I going to
do?!?" with all of the seriousness and consternation that my 5 year old self could muster.
The story goes that the whole family got a kick out this one - especially because I had apparently stumped my grandma. Naturally she had raised less
dainty children than
yours truly.
And there you have the genesis of my ocd-like need to wash my hands.... Although, to be fair, prior to my 20s, I was your not-so-average late blooming tom boy - but that's neither here nor there.
Aimee & Bill Piper - the 80s, of course!
