Things about your loved ones that you have simply come to accept.

My husband never uses the last little bit of something. The last squirt of ketchup, the remaining sliver of a bar of soap, and the last bit of margarine in the tub . . . all these are for some reason are no good; we must purchase a fresh container and begin anew. And do we throw out the old container? Goodness, why would we do that?

At one point we had four jars of Skippy with about one teaspoon of peanut butter in each, plus a new one that he’d opened and started using. I finally got out the spatula, transferred the remaining peanut butter over to the new jar, and recycled the old ones. This took me about three minutes, compared to approximately eighty hours of combined nagging over several months asking him to use up the old peanut butter when he opened a new jar. So I started just transfering the old product (whatever it is) to the new container or using it up myself. This is particularly annoying with shower gel. I use a moisturizing kind, but he prefers fruity smelly stuff, and he always leaves behind about three uses in the old bottle when he opens a new one. He changes the scent every time, too, so I can’t just transfer it to the new bottle, so I end up being forced to use up the last of his icky, fake-smelling peach or ugh watermelon shower gel.

My husband squeezes the toothpaste tube in the middle. It was drilled into me as a child that you start and the end and roll it up as you go. I realize this is picky and irrational, but it makes me insane when somebody squeezes in the middle. I tried telling him that it drives me nuts and asking him nicely to squeeze from the end. It tried nagging. I finally gave up and we now each have our own tube (which works out well, actually, 'cause we like different brands.)

My husband frequently cannot see things in the kitchen. “We’re out of mustard.” “No, we’re not.” “Then where is it?” “Bottom shelf of the door, next to the ketchup.” “I don’t see it.” sigh When he says, “We’re out of . . .” I just automatically get up and find it for him, because giving directions never works.

I know there are some issues for which he’s given up on me, too, because he finally declared that I am no longer allowed to do dishes, because I sometimes leave a little something-or-other stuck to a fork or spoon now and then. I told him that was fine, as long as he did them every night, like I do. There was some fighting about it, but he now does them without complaint (and with many expressions of gratitude from me, as I hate doing dishes.)

What behaviours on the part of your significant other, family, friends, etc. have you attempted to change but ultimately just decided to adapt to?

My husband smells his silverware before he uses it. I’ve asked him what he thinks it’s going to smell like, and he doesn’t know. He also smells glasses before he’ll uses them, which makes a little more sense, at least.
Both of my parents have the habit of either not telling me something at all, or telling me six times. To make it worse, even when I say they’ve already told me, they finish telling the story. I can sometimes hear the same story from my dad several times in the same evening.

Mine does this, but not exactly in the same way. Iced tea? He’ll drink all but the last bit, and then put the pitcher back in the fridge! Why? Who’s going to drink that last bit? If you would just put the pitcher in the sink, it would save a lot of trouble.

The other thing is the shoes. For the life of me, I cannot get him to put his shoes straight (we take them all off, no shoes in the house). Drives me crazy, but I haven’t given up on this one yet.

And my favorite: he looks with his mouth, not his eyes, which means Ialways hear: “Honey, do you know where _____ is?” _____being underwear, new toothpaste, his CD, his parking pass, his jacket, the big frying pan, anything.


My parents, two older sisters, and younger brother are all Republicans.

But I forgive them.

My sister is incredibly academically talented but is the med school equivalent of Reese Witherspoon’s character in Legally Blonde. Somehow it seems wrong that someone who thinks Prague is in Germany pulled in a 36 on her MCATs and scored close to a perfect GPA from our pretty difficult undergrad but hey, I love her to pieces and she is a very sweet person, her astounding flakiness aside.

My husband is constantly announcing he smells something and that makes me feel uncomfortable. We have lots of pets, thanks to me, so it makes me feel like he’s accusing my pets and therefore me, but he did it even when we only had one cat; he did it before we even had that cat. I have begged him not to announce that he smells something all the time, but he can’t help himself and so I’m trying to deal with it. I do hate it though.

I’m getting pretty used to “heel” sandwiches. Neither my husband or my son will eat the heel of the bread. I don’t eat bread very often, but every once in a while I’ll decided I want a sandwich. And what do I find? The bread bag empty save the two heels. One day I was cleaning out the refrigerator and found 3 bags with two heels in each of them.

<Sigh> Time to start making bread crumbs, I guess.

Or bread pudding. Or French toast. I like the chewy crusty parts best. :slight_smile:

My wife, whom I love so dearly, has this nasty habit of leaving multiple pairs of shoes all around the house. No matter where I go there are always at least one pair of shoes laying there…at the base of the staircase, at the top of the staircase, in the kitchen, in the living room (Multiple pairs there), around the bedroom, bathroom, hallway, etc.

It used to drive me nuts just running into shoes everywhere, but now I’ve learned to accept it… especially since I’ve figured out how to get revenge: I put them away for her. Now THAT drives her nuts becuase she will go looking all over the house for a pair of shoes, then she will ask if I’ve seen them. I just smile and ask, “Did you look in your closet? I put them away for you there.”

Oy - I love my wife and our marriage, but some of the stuff I am still working on “just dealing with” and not trying to change (anymore) include:

  • near-constant misplacement of keys, glasses and other daily-use items.

  • opening of new items simply because the old ones are not immediately in view in the fridge or cupboard (e.g., the almost-full Cheerios box somewhat hidden behind the Special K, so she pulls out a new Cheerios box).

  • Use of kitchen tools for handy work - e.g., using new poultry sheers to cut wire, plastic, etc., or using a spreader knife to strip paint. She typically does this work - especially paint-stripping - while wearing a set of everyday clothes and shoes, often her favorites, and then gets frustrated when they are ruined.

  • Assigning To Do’s to me top-of-mind, without writing them down. I am right about to go to bed, or we are going out to dinner or I am taking the kids to the playground and she will say “honey, you need to…” (actually, with that one, I have put my foot down and said "please write it down and stick it to the door of the microwave and she more often than not complies…stunning)

  • leaving the windows down on the new car even when we know the forecast calls for rain.

Having said all this (and this is just the beginning) she is a wonderful loving wife and mother. Oy.

That my husband of over 20 years, co-producer of two wondrous grandchildren, will never be quite good enough for my parents. They just helped us out with a new car and my mother is peeved because my husband is driving it today. Um, Mom, he’s been getting to work for the last 5 months in a van that can’t do over 50 mph. He has a half-hour freeway commute. I have a 5-10 minute surface street commute. I wish you would cut him some slack, but I know you can’t.

That training as a counsellor or psychologist just hinders them when it comes to their own relationships.

Oh, and I am the spouse that leaves books EVERYWHERE. Even in the pantry. It’s just easier that way.

My husband is like the OP, in that he will leave bits of stuff stuck to silverware or dishes now and then. However, he will do the dishes while I hate doing them, so I just try to scrub off the dirty parts as I find them.

I myself do more of these annoyances than any one person should, and my husband is a great man for dealing with it.

I have accepted that I am Mr. Carmichael’s secretary.

He’s very shy and gets tongue tied on the phone. When he needs to go to the doctor, guess who makes the appointment? I also get to talk to the utility/Columbia House/etc. people when they make a mistake on our bill.

I’m fine with this, though, because he does all of the car stuff. He speaks Mechanic, I don’t.

My god. I’m actually male and married to Podkayne.

Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, GODS YES.

How on earth he could complete so many years of schooling and have made a living for the past 6 years telling people how vital counseling is, and yet be totally averse to the idea of going to therapy himself, is beyond me.

This is my husband as well.

I’ve also learned to turn an annoying habit of his around to my advantage. He hates paperwork and he’s kind of cheap, so asking him to do anything that involves filling out a form and/or buying something that costs more than $5 is more trouble than it is worth. Much easier to do it myself. But, there’s sometimes he wants to do something/buy something/go somewhere that I don’t particularly want to do/buy/go. So, when he says, for example, “Hey, let’s get tickets to that football game (at an outdoor arena) in January,” I give him the form and tell him go to for it, knowing that chances are slim, fat and none it’ll get mailed in time. Works almost every time!

:smiley: OMG, we’re married to the same guy!
As for the “not using the last bit of something,” he will at least throw out the container, but why the hell doesn’t he use up that last bit? It was fine yesterday, did it suddenly spoil overnight?

And I always threaten to send him to “Looking School.” He can’t find anything.
“Honey, where are the Q-Tips?”
“In the hall closet, middle shelf, left side.”
“I don’t see them.”
“Middle shelf, left side. You might have to MOVE something.”
“I don’t see them.”
“They’re on the middle shelf. I’m positive. On the left.”
“I don’t see them.”
And then I just get up and get them. From the middle shelf, on the left. Right there. In plain sight. Like you, as soon as he says, “Honey, where is…?” I just get up and get it myself. It’s faster that way and less annoying.

My husband insists on salting and peppering every meal (that calls for S&P) I put in front of him before tasting it.

He says it’s rude to taste the food and then add salt or pepper, because it implies that he doesn’t like the seasoning I’ve done.

I say a pre-emptive seasoning is ruder because it implies that he knows that what I’ve cooked will be seasoned incorrectly.

I’ve begged him not to do this, but he refuses. He says it’s a European thing and I’m insulting his cultural heritage. :dubious:

Sometimes he’ll do it and say, “Oh, this is really salty.” :wally

My lady can’t drive anywhere she hasn’t driven to before.

Okay, it’s a reasonably big city of four million, and there are parts of it I don’t know either. I certainly don’t know every street. However, if you ask me to meet you in two hours’ time at any address in the entire metropolis, I’ll be there. It’s not hard. If I know it, I know it. If I don’t, I haul out the street directory and I find it. My wife can’t do that. It’d be cute, but sometimes it’s a major inconvenience.