My Habit

I oftentimes wake up in the morning with my left hand in a fist like this.  It's a habit I started when I was 6 years old to help me break another habit . . . my thumb sucking.



I remember very clearly one night 54 years ago, my father's efforts to stop me from sucking my thumb at night.  I watched as he put some tabasco sauce onto my left thumb and wrapped a band aid around it.  Then he put me to bed.

I was so sad.  What had been a source of comfort for almost my entire life was being denied to me. I lay there quietly sobbing.  After awhile my dad came to check on me. He saw that I was crying and asked me if my mouth was burning.  I lied and said yes.  I didn't have the words to say otherwise. 

He picked me up and took me to the sink and washed out my mouth for me.  He took a washcloth and scrubbed the nonexistent tabasco sauce from my tongue.  He asked if that was better and I said yes.

I don't remember if he removed the band aid or just left it on.  It didn't matter.  I never sucked my thumb again after that.  Instead I would fall asleep with my thumb tucked into the palm of my hand.