I’m very disappointed in poem_for_your_sprog for almost understanding this point, and then immediately making the same mistake she was calling out
‘I have to sort my books!’ she cried,
With self-indulgent glee;
With senseless,narcissisticpride:
‘I’m just so OCD!’
‘How random, guys!’ I smiled and said,
Then left without a peep -
And washed my hands until they bled,
And cried myself to sleep.
You mean like Freud’s theory that children who fail potty training and can’t let go of their poo become maladjusted adults who try to control everything in their lives?