I was going to put this in the Pit, but it really is mundane. But I am really pissed. Even though it’s really mundane…
I swear, I have not chosen this week to make my husband nuts. I really have been asking him the same questions for thirteen years now. Questions like “can you please turn your underwear right side out before throwing it into the laundry basket?” and “can you please put your goddamn glass in the dishwasher, it’s right next to the sink where you did put it?” and “would you please push your chair in after you get up?”
Today, his responses to these questions have all been along the lines of, “how can you ask me to think of these things now, don’t you know there’s a national tragedy?”
Yes, he is a very nice man. Yes, he has always done little things that annoy me. No, I don’t feel I am more annoyed this week about these little mundanities than I have been in the past. No, I have no illusion that any of these are anything more than mundanities. No, I am not certain “mundanities” is a word. I don’t want him burned at the stake. I do not want him not to be touched by what’s going on in the world around him. I JUST WANT HIM TO PUT HIS GLASS IN THE DISHWASHER.
Is anyone else getting stupid answers from otherwise normal people? Or am I just being utterly unreasonable?
And I will mostly be the one to continue to pick up after the others. Because it just doesn’t matter to them whether or not the glass is in the dishwasher, or the newspapers are recycled. They don’t like living in a sty, but they would end up doing so by default, because they wouldn’t pick up after themselves, and wouldn’t notice how bad it was until it was too overwhelming to clean the mess.
There will always be a new excuse not to ___________, but the bottom line it, they have us trained.
If after 13 years he has not listenened to you about putting his glass in the dishwasher etc.,what makes you think he will start now. I’ve been married for 16 years,I’ve decided that my husband has so many other good qualities that it makes life much more peacful to ignore his little quirks. Of course that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be a bit more happier if the beast would shut a closet door or pick up his dirty socks
After seven years, I’ve become accustomed to the fact that I will always pour her morning coffee (she was a lieutenant in the Navy and that’s what yeomen are for), pick up her used breakfast dishes and, if I don’t want the food to spoil after dinner, put them in the fridge. Considering how much she does for me (and what she puts up with), it’s the least I can do.
Have no fear! There is hope!! As I approach my 18th anniversary, I have just about succeeded in getting my husband to turn off lights when he leaves a room. I no longer come home to find the bathroom fully aglow. I’ve watched him turn around without prompting from me and throw the switch that darkens the closet. And he’s almost broken of the habit of leaving his shoes where I can trip over them.
Dispair not! Some behaviors are harder to modify than others, but it can be done!!!
Now I need to get him to stop nagging about the amount of time I spend on line…
The underwear inside out doesn’t bother me much, but I suppose it is a hassle when you go to fold the clean laundry and have to also turn it the right way. Some people fold it that way, and let the owner fix it. I suppose some people’s underwear would present a not too pretty sight turned inside out also (details not provided).
Actually, “please turn your underwear right side out” is family shorthand for “please remove your underwear from inside your inside-out-legged jeans and kindly dig the balled-up socks from within as well.”
I have to admit, I’ve never heard Miss Manners mention #1 and #3 of your questions, but I suspect they are not in the canon of manners. #2 is a common enough request, but how can you insist on anything in the face of this tragedy? My sink is overflowing, a rare event for me, and I live alone. Cut him some slack.
Interesting, FairyChatMom. My mom’s husband does the opposite. He will sit in an entirely dark house with one lamp on, wherever he is. If she is out in the evening and comes home, it is to a completely dark house, even if he’s home. It drives her and my brother nuts.
She has been working on this behavior for upwards of two years and has gotten absolutely nowhere. sigh
This is just a question which occurred to me while reading this thread…is there something in the male psyche that doesn’t register anything to do with basic housekeeping or what?
My SO will pile a week’s worth of dishes in the sink (he has a dishwasher, BTW), and would add another week’s worth to it if you-know-who wouldn’t rinse and put them in the dishwasher. I don’t have a problem with leaving a couple of dishes/cups/whatever in the sink, but a week’s worth???
It’s not as though I’m Martha Stewart, either. But I’ve found this behavior, as well as related others, to be in the male realm. Is it genetic? Or just pure male laziness?
Or is there another reason which hasn’t occurred to me?
Actually, how can you not insist on some normality in the face of this tragedy? I mean, it would be easy to say “how can you expect me to cook in the face of this tragedy” but we still gotta eat. We still gotta have respect for the partners we live with. Life’s gotta go on for those of us who are still here. The sooner we try to get back to a normal life, the better. Believe me, my husband is not trying anything like that with me, nor me with him.
I am in no way saying that this isn’t a huge tragedy, but we (those of us not DIRECTLY affected) can’t use it as an excuse to “opt out” from normal every day life.
Well, on Friday I went to write down my own phone number and I couldn’t remember it. All I can figure is, my mind is on overload from numerous days of fretting. Still, that was weird, and it was embarrassing to explain to the person who requested that I wasn’t sure it was the correct number.
If the glasses in the sink were a departure from normalcy, I would say cut him some slack. But it sounds like this is just a new excuse among thirteen years of excuses to get someone else to pick up after him.
Why is it always the men who get the bum rap? If I didn’t clean up after Marcie, the kitchen counter would collapse under the weight of dirty dishes. When I left our house this morning, there were at least eight pair of shoes scattered randomly about the foot of the stairs, none of them mine. Flat surfaces, in our house, are intended by God as places to pile things. Door knobs are to be used as clothes hangers, medicine cabinets are to be kept empty while medicine is to be dispersed through every room we have; the ironing board makes a great place to stack books and magazines because bookcases are used for houseplants. Car keys exist soley for the purpose of being lost and the idea of returning anything at all to where it was originally is utterly foreign. Putting caps and lids back onto their respective containers is, and I quote, “A waste of my time.” Cupboard doors and all drawers need to be open, not closed, and cosmetics don’t like to be confined.
I love Marcie past all belief and wouldn’t change a thing about her. As if I could.
