My poor Dad. Three daughters (no sons) and one lovely wife meant that for roughly two decades, my dad was outnumbered 4-to-1 estrogen-wise. Twenty years of glitter, cheerleading practice, curling irons and boyfriends du jour – for a military man, no less.

But nothing, nothing makes me hang my head in shame more than memories surrounding the dinner table. It was here that Dad suffered routine and unabashed criticism from the family females. His crime? Loud chewing. Mouth closed, impeccable manners aside, whenever a silence hit, the masticating – and complaints – began. Theories were plentiful: “you’re chewing too fast!,” “your bites are too small!,” “you’re opening your jaw too wide!” and my personal theory, “your cheeks are too thin!” He would sit at the table, eating the meal that his hard work provided, and say nothing.

Why do trivial matters annoy us so? Why do innocuous behaviors, mannerisms, sights and sounds evoke such visceral reactions? And, for God’s sake, why didn’t we just put soft music on in the background?

Are we all just immature twits (Dad excepted) or is there something bigger at play? A new book “Annoying: The Science of What Bugs Us,” has a few answers. 

Take, for example, the cringe-inducing sound of fingernails on a chalkboard. Researchers are now linking this with primitive warning calls, surmising that we may actually be ingrained to loathe this sound for purposes of physical safety.

The book finds that most annoyances have three characteristics in common; they are unpredictable, temporary and unpleasant… unpleasant to you, that is. I happen to really enjoy the smell of skunk, but you likely don’t. A quick poll of the magazine staff shows that our gang can’t handle people that listen to loud music through their headphones, pointing at each veggie ordered on a Subway sandwich, and the way pinky toes inevitably hang off the edge of kitten heels. See why this is a subjective test?

As for Dad, I have decided that his loud chewing may have attracted animal predators, thus endangering our human pack. Or maybe my sisters and I were simply immature twits? Sadly, I don’t think science is on our side on this one.