Rhiannon tells me that the kid she nannies used to collect disposable latex gloves. This started when he was around two. Any time he’d see latex gloves — at the doctor’s office, at nursery school, in a random first aid kid mounted to the wall — he’d ask if he could have them. He preferred the “blue glubs” but the “kinda yellow glubs” were also acceptable. He’d wear them around and then stash them in his pockets, in drawers and in his play kitchen.

“It was so gross, honestly,” Rhiannon says of the sweaty, sticky things. “He’s 9 years old now and I will still occasionally find a disgusting, decomposing rubber glove in a weird place — recently, in the old Fisher-Price cash register that he won’t let us get rid of.”