Name That Phobia!

So, I was texting my sister today, which is a BIG FUCKING DEAL because the last time I talked to her was.......?  I don't know.  It's been that long.  And not for any other reason that I can recall except I'm a horrible, horrible keeper-in-toucher/pen pal kind of person. 

Clearly I take after my father. 

[side note: He left when I was 8 and showed up when I was 18 with nothing in between.  Seems like cruel and unusual punishment when you're little, and I chastised him for it when I was bigger, and now that I'm REALLY BIG I've come to decide this apple didn't fall too far from the tree in that regard.  If you're not in my daily life, you're never forgotten... I'm just too much of a douche to pen a quick note to say you're on my mind.  I'm hoping to be better with this by the time the kids move out.  I really do like them.]

ANYWAY.

So she was being very kind and lovely, asking if there is anything she can get or help procure for the new babe.  I yammered on about how all we still need is a car seat/stroller combo and some pacifiers. 

[Crib mattress is covered! Thank you, Rebecka!]

It dawned on me just yesterday that I haven't picked up any pacifiers, yet, and I'll be damned if I end up with another thumb sucker.  It's bad enough, already, knowing that one day I'm going to have to follow through with my threat and actually cut Lydia's thumb off.  I'd rather not have to repeat such an action with Ruby.  I bet it really does make such a mess.

As it was, she was asking if there was a Babies R Us nearby.  I went on to say there is, but we're buying the expensive stuff from Amazon to help out a friend.  This, in and of itself, is another BIG FUCKING DEAL since I don't buy things on-line.  Ever.  I have this thing in which I must see, touch, man handle and visually investigate all purchases before I buy them.  And this can't be done when purchasing on-line.  I mean, you can purchase a similar item on-line but not the same one you just abused in the store.

I'm just one of those people who like to buy  and return things to an actual store.  Go ahead, laugh.  Call me silly.  Whatever.  I know, I know.  I get it.  There is something innately wrong with me.

Which leads me to believe there is probably a phobia name for people like me: "Someone who is irrationally prone to distrusting things one can not see or touch......... yet believes in God."

This is me~ love me, hate me or find me completely nonsensical.  It is what it is.