Elvis seems to have developed this odd anxiety around my drinking glasses.  Unlike all the other members of my family, I prefer drinking water to all other beverages, at least most of the time.  I prefer to drink water out of a glass, rather than a plastic cup.  I don’t know why I dislike drinking water out of a plastic cup.  I mean, I certainly can and will drink water out of a plastic cup, if that’s what I have available.  It’s not like I go to other people’s houses and look down my nose at a plastic cup of water and say, “Excuse me, but don’t you have any glassware?”  No.  But if I have the choice, I prefer to drink water out of a glass.  It just seems…fresher that way.  I know it’s irrational, but lots of things I do are irrational, and I’m not about to start explaining myself to you now.

Anyway, a couple weeks ago Elvis took to setting the table, and when he would set the table, he would fill a plastic cup with water and set it at my place at the table.  He wouldn’t get anyone else’s drink, just mine.  I thought it was sweet that he noticed that I always drink water and went to the trouble of getting my drink for me, as part of his table-setting ritual.  So of course I drink my water out of plastic cups on such occasions.  (In case you were wondering about the depths of my water-glass hangups.)  But when I get my own water, I still use a glass.

But a couple days ago Elvis started this new thing.  He notices when I’m drinking water out of a glass.  He comes and stands very close to me and says, “Don’t break the glass.”

“I won’t,” I assure him.

“Don’t break the glass,” he repeats.

“Okay,” I say.

And the second I set down the glass, even if I’m not finished with the water contained therein*, he picks up the glass, pours the rest of the water in the sink, wipes out the remaining droplets with a towel and puts the glass back in the cabinet.   Of course I don’t like him to do that because, hello, my lips were just on that glass and he hasn’t washed it, just wiped it out, and it’s not clean, so it doesn’t belong in the cabinet.  I tell him not to worry about the glass, that Mommy is still using it and I will take care of it, and he can just go about his business as usual and not give my water glass any further thought.  But he will not be deterred.

Seriously, I was sitting at lunch today, drinking water, and I couldn’t take my hands off the glass, lest he make a grab for it.  I kept saying, “No, that’s Mommy’s.  I’m still using it.  Just–go do something else.  I’m having lunch.  I’m drinking the rest of the water, just not all at once.**  No, really, I will drink it.  I want to drink it.  I want it to stay here.  I just don’t want to be constantly in the act of pouring it down my throat.  Seriously, I want this water.  I want the glass.  Please don’t take it.  I promise to let you have it when I’m finished.”  But he just kept standing there, making anxious noises, saying, “Don’t break the glass!”

To my knowledge, he has not had any traumatic glass-breaking experiences lately.

I finally had to just hand over my glass, still half-full, and let him dump the water, wipe out the droplets and place the glass back in the cabinet.  “All done,” he said.  “I put it away.”

“Thank you,” I said.  For nothing!

* At this point my husband is saying, “Oh sure, she’s going to drink the rest of the water!  When does she ever drink the rest of the water?  I’m constantly finding half-drunk glasses of water all over the house!  It’s like I’m living in that movie Signs!  Does she think aliens are going to invade the planet?  Should I be taking up baseball?”

[Ed. note:  He finds half-drunk glasses of water all over the kitchen, not the whole house.  Unlike all other members of the household, who, I incidentally remind you, drink things like milk, juices and carbonated sodas AND DON’T ALWAYS FINISH EVERY LAST DROP, I tend to confine my (water-)drinking activities to the kitchen ONLY.  Is it my fault if people leave stuff on the kitchen counter that they don’t want to get wet, where they can accidentally knock over a glass that might have some water (not juice, not milk, not three-day-old fruit smoothie) in it?  Is it?  Really?]

** At this point my husband is saying, “Don’t believe her, Elvis!  She always says she’s going to drink all of the water, but she never does!  There are half-drunk water glasses ALL over the house, ALL the time!  For someone who likes to drink water, she sure has a hard time drinking very much of it before she’s forgotten that she was drinking water in the first place and leaves it there for some unsuspecting soul to spill and make a big, unnecessary and totally avoidable mess!  If she can’t take responsibility for that, it’s about time someone took matters into his own hands!”

So anyway, as I was saying, I don’t get this new obsession with the drinking glasses.  ButI guess it’s water out of plastic cups for me for the foreseeable future.