I have my few pet peeves that keep me company. They're tidy little pets never leaving ugly surprises for me on the sofa or the hard wood floors. I never have to brush or bathe them. They rarely eat more than I can afford to feed them. The only real drawback of my little pet peeves is that they have a tendency to not only annoy the heck out of me while I'm awake, but they have the habit of keeping me up at night.

My oldest pet peeve is the one I call Chewing-with-your-mouth-open. My mother gave me this pet peeve when I was young, and I'm quite attached to it. So attached, in fact, that I've given it to my kids. They've nourished and cherished this peeve over the years in their own special ways.

Nearly as old as Chewing-with-your-mouth-open is Talking-with-your-mouth-full. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, the two are actually siblings from the same litter of peeves that my mother nursed into health in the 60s. My sisters each have a set of these sibling pets as well. It's a family thing.

When first living with my husband, I took in Brushing-your-teeth-with-warm- water. The funny thing about this peeve is that, unlike most pets which grow larger as the years pass, this pet has grown smaller over the years. And today, after over twenty years of marriage, this peeve is almost dead. We're planning a burial in the back yard early next Spring.

My sister lived with us for a while in the 90s. She brought her pet peeve, Bad-housekeeping-in-general, along with her. Unfortunately, my pet Any-housekeeping-in-general didn't get on very well with hers at first. But we worked things out between the two, and eventually were able to let them in the same rooms provided they had separate sleeping spaces.

When my first daughter was born, we took in People-pronouncing-your-name-w rong. And right on the heels of that pet, we adopted People-spelling-your-name-wron g. Apparently, not everyone spells or says names the same way. I feel a little guilty that my husband and I gave those pet peeves to our daughter as she's reached adulthood, but we had little space for them at home while she's in college. And, to be honest, they really are her pets, not ours.

When my twins were born we got a whole new set of pet peeves. There was Yes-they-are-twins, No-we-didn't-use-fertility-dru gs, Identical-twins-don't-run-in-f amilies, and, my personal favorite, Identical-means-that-they-are- the-same-sex. Their older sister eventually found Yes-I-like-being-a-sister-to-t wins,

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