Let me let you in on a little secret. Steve has barely functional OCD. Never try to load a dishwasher near him. Never try to mix colors in the laundry. The man has a problem. Last night? I tortured him. Our babysitter’s name is Rose. I reminded him that Rose was coming today. Apparently her name became a sudden trigger for his OCD, because every time I said “Rose” he had to say a line from Dr. Suess’ Fox in Socks- “crows rose grows some.” So our converstaion went something like this:

Me: Don’t forget Rose is coming tomorrow.
Steve: Crows rose grows some.
Me: What? Did you hear me? Rose is coming tomorrow.
Steve: Crows rose grows some. I heard. I have to say that when you say Rose.
Me: You what? You have to……Rose?
Steve: Crows rose grows some.
Me: Rose.
Steve: Crows rose grows some.
Me: Rose.
Steve: Crows rose grows some.
Me: (grinning evilly) So every time I say…Rose?
Steve: Crows rose grows some.
Me: (laughing) HA! Rose!
Steve: (laughing) Crows rose grows some.
Me: We need to go the REI sale- ROSE!
Steve: Crows rose grows some. Ok.
Me: We also are out of ROSE! toilet paper.
Steve: Crows rose grows some. We also need OJ.
Me: What about son #2’s shoes-ROSE!
Steve: Crows rose grows some. We can get those tomorrow too if you want.
Me: Ok goodnight, Rose.
Steve: (whispers) crows rose grows some.
Me: (whispers) rose
Steve: (whispers) crows rose grows some.

This morning it was no better.
Me: Son #2 seems to be feeling better, so I guess we’re still on for Rose?
Steve: Crows rose grows some. Yeah. I think he’s ok.
Me: Hmmm. Still with the Rose?
Steve: Crows rose grows some. Yes.
Me: Rose.
Steve: Crows rose grows some.
Me: Rose.
Steve: Crows rose grows some.

It’s going to be a long, Rose, day. ;D Oh and BTW? Plural or possesive form of Rose does not elicit a Suessian response, much to my disappointment.