Do You Still Have Childish Habits?

In My Humble Opinion
1

I’m 23 years old, and an otherwise capable adult. Every night, I sleep curled up around a stuffed monkey. It (he) is not a childhood toy – I got him as a silly gift when I was 15 years old. Technically, I can sleep without him (if I’m in a hotel somewhere, I’ll sleep hugging a pillow) but it’s not the same, and I muchly prefer to take him with me when I go out of town. I don’t for fear of embarrassment, but I’d like to.

So am I alone here? What about you? Do you suck your thumb? Have a nightlight? A blankie? What kiddy staple do you enjoy?

2

When I was a kid, I used to pretend to be a T.Rex when I was searching around in the kitchen for something to munch on. I’d pull my elbows in tights to my sides, so I only had short front “legs” for opening cupboards and shifting things about. I’d growl like I imagined a T.Rex might growl hungrily. And I’d always end it with a high-toned “ooooh, snacks!” when I found something. I still do that when nobody is around. I’m 38.

3

Heeheehee! “ooooh, snacks!” That’s hysterical!

4

I like to hug a pillow or stuffed animal when falling asleep, like Small Hen does. I’m not picky about which stuffed animal it is as long as it’s about teddy-bear size and soft.

I also like to eat cold cereal, though not very frequently because of my lactose intolerance.

5

I still bite my nails and eat my boogers.

6

I have nothing. I have a body pillow that I sleep with, but it was recommended to me as a way of keeping the aches and pains away. I think it helps some too, although not entirely.

7

Apart from reducing the variety, and enforced change due to lack of availability, I haven’t changed my diet since I was five years old.

8

I sometimes dance for my dog. Not quite as vigorously as the farmer did for Babe The Pig, but Bo seems to appreciate it. Unless his excited barks are saying, “Sit down, you foolish human.”!

9

I have a silky blanky–cotton lined with silk–about 3 feet x 3 feet in diameter.

I’ve had one since I was born (not always the same one.) I become audibly distressed when I can’t find it (usually by making amoeba distress sounds.) It’s not fair to say I can’t sleep without it, but it’s fair to say I can’t sleep without whining that I don’t have it and then feeling uneasy and frustrated for 20 minutes before falling asleep. I take it with me whenever I stay overnight somewhere, and one of the most disappointing moments is when I realize I forgot it. Every night it gets transported from the bed to the couch and then back again.

I’m 25. I’m not likely to outgrow this habit. My mother is in her forties and still has a silky blanky too. She is the one who instilled this value.

10

My sister is 34 and still sleeps with her cherished 22’ Pound Puppy.

11

I’m 25 and I still have the ‘stuffed rabbit’ given to me by family friends upon the occasion of my birth.

I used quotation marks because the poor thing is so roughed up now that it is genuinely hard to recognise as anything at all. It literally looks like a dirty old rag.

When he got holes in him or otherwise damaged when I was a kid, my mum would fix him up and he’d be OK. But gradually, the fixing lessened in both frequency and effectiveness.

The rabbit is now in three pieces - two separate ears and a body (no head left). I should mention that I am the only one who can tell that these pieces were once ears and a body. It has absolutely no stuffing left. It is just a few pieces of fabric, really. 99% of the fur is gone, leaving just the fabric mesh into which the fur was once woven. It used to be white. Now it is irretrievably grey, no amount of washing will un-grey it.

The two plastic ‘eyes’ that were once his, I now have in a box.

I was unable to sleep without it until I was about 15 - which is when he started to fall to pieces, forcing me to learn not to need him in order to sleep. But one thing I never got over was the feel of little knotted threads against my fingers. By the time I was a few years old, the threads and stitching had begun to fray and some of the errant strands became entangled and eventually knotted together, especially those on his ears. And I became addicted to rubbing my fingers across the hard little knots with an amount of pressure that almost-but-not-quite resulted in pain. My mother swears up and down that I used to rub my fingers against his ears in my sleep sometimes.

I find the feeling so comforting that, right now, in my top drawer there is a little stash of threads in which I have personally tied and tightened many knots, so that I may replicate it whenever I like. It soothes me a little when I am worried, but half the time I do it just for the hell of it.*

Even though it is not even a shadow of a rabbit to anyone but myself, ‘Bunny’ still lives in my bedroom and I must at least know WHERE it is before I go to sleep, and when I’m doing something like, say, internet browsing, I still - without thinking about it - reach out for part of it to hold or fiddle with in my hand absent-mindedly. I was doing that when I opened the thread and I’m doing it now.

I love that little rabbit.

  • I truly dread having to explain all the psychological crap I have relating to this rabbit to an SO one day. I have never told anyone else this stuff. Feel privileged/disgusted as you wish, Dopers.
12

I still pick my nose, though no booger-eating ensues.

Sometimes I wrap my dog up completely in blankets and put a pillow under her head, because, hey, it’s still funny.

Standup Karmic, that was the funniest thing I’ve heard all week.

13

Thanks! I actually like to imagine that it looks quite scary and tough. But “funny” is probably a close third.

14

I was only kidding about the boogers, but thanks for sharing. :stuck_out_tongue:

As for the nails it’s become a permanent second nature. Can’t fkn stand it. I’ve tried the bitter polish, etc. Nothing works. Maybe if I just wear gloves 24/7 that will solve my problem.

And to add 2 more: I have very bad posture when sitting. I usually end up laying down more than anything. And I still love pranks.

15

olivesmarch4th, I’m 37 and I still much prefer to have a silk-edged blanket to rub as I fall asleep. Nope, we’re not outgrowing that.

16

I’m 53 and sleep with a stuffed bunny every night. Ditto on taking him with me when I’m going out of town. (You should have seen the look on my sister’s face when we were putting my stuff into her car for a week at the shore, she said “Oh, you don’t need to take bedding,” and I pulled Barney out of that bag before putting it back in the house.) Ditto on using a pillow if I’m in a hotel without him.

17

I’ll third that - I had a velvet blanket (biiiiig one) that I had until I was 27 and it finally fell apart. My family used to joke that I would still have it at university. Well, I met that milestone, and exceeded it. I just liked using it at a sort of pillow that I could cover my eyes with while I fell asleep. And sometimes I would snuggle with it on the couch.

Then I met my husband. For some reason, my husband replaced it in my affections (I think I was slightly embarrassed about it at first, and then I realised I didn’t need it because I had him to snuggle).

Five years’ later, and I am starting to really miss it again. I still snuggle with my husband, but I think I might get myself one again…

Mmmmmm, velvet…

18

So your rabbit is now real?

I still have the old teddy bear my Dad bought for me the day I was born. He’s pretty old and looking his age (nearly 50, argh), but he’s still around long after many of his companions from my childhood are gone. He sits on a bookshelf now, where I can still see him when I’m in that room. He seems to be enjoying his retirement.

19

Try getting acrylic nails. I guarantee you won’t chew on those! And don’t pooh-pooh the idea if you happen to be male. I can’t think of better incentive to stopping that nasty habit.

As for my childish behavior… on occasion, I have been known to stomp my foot in frustration. Not often and not consciously, mind you.

20

I still don’t eat vegetables if I can help it, apart from canned spinach or green beans (which I’ve liked since I was 10 or so). These days I take vitamin supplements to make up for it, but I somehow managed not to die of malnourishment for the dozen or so years before that.

I, too, share a bed with a stuffed animal – a mouse that my childhood best friend gave to me for my sixth birthday. New visitors to my home are instructed that mocking the mouse is grounds for immediate expulsion.