I'm convinced my husband is out to drive me to an early demise. (I heard that.)
I have this 'thing' that will probably drive him to his early demise as well.
I spend my days following him around turning off lights, sometimes when he's still in the room. I'm not some nut worried about the electric bill, I just have a weird objection to unused lights shining day and night.
Doors standing wide open is another peeve I have. I like the doors closed so the dogs are confined to the living room. The little one is convinced it's her personal outhouse. One more 'accident' and I'll be whipping the diapers back out. Closet doors need to remain closed. They have lights that turn on and off like a refrigerator and I'm bound and determined to see how many years that light will last. I can't stand to see a door, drawer, or cabinet door 'almost' closed. David tends to leave his medicine cabinet door hanging open and if I'm miffed at him, I'll close it all the way because it sticks if you do it just right.
I bought him a coffee pod carousel when he acquired his coffee maker that uses those little one cup jobs. We've already established my obsessiveness so let's say this one really gets to me. Instead of taking a pod from the top ring and proceeding down all three rings emptying one before descending to the next he takes pods randomly like he's playing the punch board on “The Price is Right” and he'll win a prize flavor. He only buys TWO kinds so why does he pick one here and there? I've tried organizing them according to when they were purchased so he'll use the oldest ones first to no avail. When he buys a new box, I make sure to put the oldest ones on top, the new ones lower and the rest in the drawer underneath the carousel that will hold 36 more pods. Since I don't drink coffee, you're probably wondering why I care. Well, I do. It's in MY kitchen (he gets the garage) and I have to look at it with the random holes where the pods are supposed to be.
I'm absolutely sure he's trying to send me to an early columbarium. A few years ago, we visited the national military cemetery located close to our home and David decided that instead of a grave, we'd be cremated and placed in a little hole in the side of a wall. He was very impressed with how neat, and orderly everything is. The 'hole' is free. Here's my issue with this plan: (A) I'm deathly (pun intended) afraid of fire and (B) I'm borderline claustrophobic. Besides, I'd always pictured myself placed under a big old shade tree with a large monument with glowing words of praise on how great a wife, mother, Nana (grandmother) and friend I was and a nice bench where family and friends could sit and ponder the wonder that was me. (Don't laugh.)
What will I get instead? A wall that contains a plaque that glorifies all the accomplishments of the deceased military person (David) and I'll be a footnote. I guess it could be worse. At least I've got that smokin' hot body I've always wanted. I can see him putting me in an urn, knocking it over, vacuuming me up and replace me with yard dirt and dog hair.
Other things I do that I'm sure gets on David's nerves are my messy side table next to my recliner. It's usually stacked with so much stuff I have to check my trash can before I empty it in case something important fell in but I gripe at him for having a cluttered table. He took over the table in the breakfast nook as his personal desk and the only time I can see the top of it is when the kids and grandkids come over and need to for mealtimes. We won't mention the fact that my office, the closet in my office and our storm shelter have become storage facilities for all my excess sewing, quilting and baking paraphernalia now, will we?
It's amazing the things both of us can be blind to. I'm blind to the fact that my craft closet is overflowing which aggravates him and he's blind to the fact that the bar in his 'man cave' on the back porch is so full of tools, golf balls, bug spray and dust that the top of it hasn't been seen since it was installed but I can't afford to make him too mad. He's a great help inside and outside of the house and I'd be lost without him.