I used to love the Hokey Cokey when I was little. It was always amusing how everyone would get a little too over-excited when they would run into the middle of the circle screaming ‘Wooooahhhhhh the Ho-key Co-keyyyyyy’, battering as many children as possible in their quest to run the fastest and push the hardest. Those were the days, eh? Little did I know that in years to come I would devise my own little ritualised Hokey Cokey every morning and every night, kind of like dedicated practisers of Yoga but a pointlessly exhausting and anxiety-inducing version.
You can try this one out for yourself if you like (make sure the curtains are closed, the window cleaner might think he’s receiving some sort of exotic, repetitive strip tease). Grab your T-Shirt, Jumper, Bra, Vest, whatever. You put your left arm in, your left arm out, in, out, in, out, and shake it all about (at least four times, please. Never six). This is to ensure that the item of clothing is ‘good’ and ‘right’ by the time that you actually put it on and therefore you can enjoy your day, safe in the knowledge that the worst possible scenario you could ever imagine will not happen. Okie dokie then, we’ll continue. Trousers? Tights? Speedos? You put your left leg in, your left leg out, in, out, in, out, and shake it all about (four times please). Knees bent, arms stretched, Rah! Rah! Rah! OK, I never actually did that bit, although I might as well have done for all the good it did me! Shaking my clothes before putting them on was of the utmost importance. I mean, what if there was some kind of invisible, cursed substance clinging to them which was waiting to get to me and which could destroy my life in a heartbeat? You have to think of these things. Knives? Road accidents? Pfft, it’s the invisible threats you should be worrying about!
Exercises must be repeated when undressing before bed, just in case those pesky imaginary dangers have attached themselves to your clothes during the day – you can’t be too careful, they’re persistent f*ckers. One must also do a bizarre, horizontal can-can when getting into bed, just to make sure that the said persistent f*ckers aren’t clinging to your feet. Then you can sleep soundly.
Hey, at least I can look back and laugh. And that’s what it’s all about…