Sometimes you just need to vent some of this stuff. For instance my wife can not resist the urge to overly complicate a task until it’s not worth doing, especially when it comes to house repairs. One example occurred a few years ago when I noticed one of the kitchen taps leaking. The sink is quite old and dated-looking so I decided to take a couple of hours and replace the whole thing, sink, tap, etc.
My wife was tickled pink, “While you’re at it you might as well replace the countertop…”
*
Screeeeeeeeeeeech!!!*
Whoa, whoa, replace the countertop? I have a couple of hours to spare. I know how to replace the sink and taps, the countertop is a whole different ball of wax. First, I have never replaced one so there’s going to be a learning curve, tools I don’t have, trips to the hardware store for things I didn’t realize I would need. Plus, the cabinets over the countertop will need to be braced up somehow. it’s just not an afternoon job to be added on top of another at the last minute.
“Well, my sister didn’t brace hers. It only took them an afternoon.”
“Your sister’s cupboards are screwed to the ceiling, ours aren’t and it took them the afternoon and into the evening and that was the only project they did that day!”
Like talking to the wall…
Blah, four years later, same old dated-looking sink.
Then there’s the time I wanted to replace the downstairs sink and toilet.
“While you’re at it you might as well tile the floor and replace the shower!”
:rolleyes: that still hasn’t been done either…
OK, I’ll go.
Why, why, why is he attached to piles of SHIT??? No, I don’t mean feces, that would be just nasty… Piles of “stuff”, old circulars, mail he doesn’t need, pieces of pieces of other stuff. I’ve tried to institute a basket system for him… One on the breakfront near the front door for keys, work badges, flashlight, change… Doesn’t matter, he just throws all the shit on the counter next to the basket. Put another basket on the shelf under the coffee table for all the newspapers (in addition to newspaper baskets for old newspapers), mail, various and sundry scraps of paper and glasses and so on and on and on… Doesn’t matter, the shit just ends up in sloppy piles on the top of the coffee table. Sometimes I hate him!
Oh, and let’s talk about why men can’t seem to close cabinets or drawers after removing something from them… WHY???
Packrat. That’s what he is. Addicted to Freecycle, Craigslist and ebay, our garage is barely navigatable, via a narrow path through tons of shit, to my washer and dryer. Carrying a basket full of laundry to fold is a perilous journey.
His side of the bedroom is the same way… Piles of clothes and crap from his pockets on every available surface… I hate him!
HFM, if it helps you for me to attempt to explain one aspect of your SO’s behaviour?
I often leave cupboards open while I am in the kitchen, however, the reasoning for me goes as follows:
“If I need another dish from the cupboard, the door will already be open for me”.
That works as well for me as my dear, late, husband’s explanation for piles of clean laundry on the bedroom floor as opposed to in the drawers of the dresser… “My inventory at a glance”. At least that made me laugh!
When I was in junior college and he was at UCLA:
Him: “I don’t have time to help with housework, I have a harder schedule than you do!”
Me: :rolleyes:
When I was at UCLA and he was in law school:
“I don’t have time to help with housework, I have a harder schedule than you do!”
“I spent 5 hours in traffic on the 405 today to do 18 units, you spent 3 hours on a motorcycle on a scenic road to take evening classes!”
“Well, wait until you get to law school, then you’ll see!”
:rolleyes:
I’m waiting to see how this is going to pan out for my first year of law school + commuting while he’s on easy street working for the government. I fully expect to come home after 4 hours of train time and 6 classes to him in his underwear playing WoW and complaining that he doesn’t have time.
Ahhhh. So this explains why my husband can never find a trash bin. “I just wanted to keep track of stuff I’m throwing away!” Seriously, he’ll leave a wrapper on the kitchen counter or the nightstand when a trash bin is right there.
He never looks for anything. He thinks everything should be right in front of him, all the time. He won’t move anything.
“Where’s the butter?”
“Look behind the milk.”
“Why do I always have to look for things? You never put anything where I can find it!”
“Sweetheart, go buy that refrigerator that’s 15 feet wide and a foot deep and you’ll never have to look behind the milk again.”
My wife always asks if I’m looking with my ‘man’ eyes. It can be right in front of me and I’ll miss it. As far as moving stuff, if it’s smaller than the milk it goes in front of the milk. We’re simple creatures, don’t mess with our heads like that
Never replaces the toilet paper roll.
Won’t walk the dog.
Can’t cook worth a shit.
Doesn’t like rice???
Won’t consider linguine or spaghettiini as a replacement for spaghetti noodles.
Only drinks Coke: won’t consider a cheaper store brand.
Doesn’t eat sea food.
Has no hobbies or exercise regime.
Doesn’t skate, ski, golf, or do just about anything else.
Smokes.
Bitches all the time.
Yells at the kids instead of trying to approach them on a level playing ground with previously considered logical reasons.
Hates camping.
Performs superficial home cleaning only. (Yeah, I try to pick up the slack.)
Doesn’t know how to operate the lawn tractor or the snow blower and doesn’t want to learn.
Watches Oprah and Dr. Phil.
Runs up credit card debt.
I’m starting to acquire a pet peeve. You see, I’ll be in the middle of composing what I sincerely hope will be a brilliant, inciteful post when the gentleman will come in and start being affectionate. In fact, I think I can here his footsteps as I type this. By the time he’s done, I’ve lost my train of thought!
Don’t you mean “let’s talk about why my SO can’t seem to close cabinets or drawers after removing something from them”? I’ve never had that problem. To the contrary, I’m almost OCD about it.
TheHighwayman is a clever Bruin. I can see him slipping out of everything you throw on him. Better call that maid
Really shouldn’t get started in this thread but what the heck: prefers to hide out in a hotel these past six weeks rather than be at home. Of course you’re more comfortable there, dear: you don’t have to face any issues or baggage.
I really do love my SO and don’t have any of the serious issues that some others have here. I also have the distinct advantage of having had my SO as one of my dearest friends before we started dating (for about 2 years previous). Having said that, let me load this shotgun:
Honey - you have high blood pressure and you eat like a rat rummaging through the circus after hours. You are a bit overweight. It doesn’t bother me aesthetically, but it does bother me that you have something that you can fix and is within your power to fix and you have said for two years + that “I really need to sign up at the gym and do a little exercise.” You still haven’t done it.
One day I will have to bury you if you don’t stop depending on whatever blood pressure medicine you can get and when I do I am going to be pissed off. Quit eating so much fucking salt and sugar (aka: white death) and go to the gym. I’m tired of you being sick all the time.
Smacks his food and scrapes his teeth on the fork
Refuses to even try to learn how to cook
Won’t mow the lawn, so we have to pay someone to do it
Leaves hair on the soap
Won’t change a diaper if he can possibly get away with it
On the other hand, I:
Always drop my dirty clothes on the bathroom floor when the basket is just a couple of feet away
Leave trash on the kitchen counters
Nag him about his grammar
Sometimes forget to pay bills on time
Let the laundry pile up until it’s critical
So we both put up with stuff–that’s just marriage, I guess. If I had to list all the great things about him, this post would be a lot longer and I hope he’d say the same about me.
I’m going to take PeskiPiksi’s tack and list bad things about both of us.
My husband:
-Does not seem to see anything wrong with having to wash dishes in order to cook, so leaves the kitchen covered with all kinds of filth after dinner, inevitably resulting in me either cleaning it up after I’m done with other chores even though he’s promised to do it or needing to wash dishes before I cook, which I hate.
-Encourages me to write more, then won’t shut up long enough for me to do it.
-Reads over my shoulder or talks at me constantly while I’m writing or surfing the net, even though he knows it drives me batshit crazy (like now - he just demanded to know what I was doing, even though I told him I was going to screw around online for a few minutes just 5 minutes ago).
-Assigns me “chores,” even though I do all the cooking and about 80% of the cleaning and most of the childcare. The only chore he does with any regularity is taking out the trash. When he starts anything out with, “I have a request,” it sets my teeth on edge because I know he’s going to try to assign me a chore.
On the other hand, I:
-Leave socks, magazines and books absolutely all over the house.
-Get passive aggressive about once a month.
-Really wish he would just think of nice things to do for me without me having to ask, making it more difficult for my husband to think of nice things to do for me.
-Get frustrated to the point of tears when my time is so limited that I can’t work out.
-Try so hard not to snarl at him when he keeps talking at me when I’m writing that I blow up later and cry.
When we first got married: He wanted the house to be clean. He didn’t want to clean it. He freaked at the idea of hiring someone to clean it.
Hmmm. He wants me to clean it?
I hired a housecleaner in secret. The housecleaner came on a day I had off but he had to work. (Wednesday.) In preparation for the housecleaner I spent hours putting stuff away like mad, and wiping certain things so the housecleaner would not quit and could do the job. This worked.
He found out. Now I was not only a lazy non-housekeeper, but deceptive.
At the time I had two jobs. Then I had a baby and went down to one job. Then I had another baby and went down to no job, for awhile, except taking care of the babies. Then I went back to work and he took on the job of taking care of the little ones. I had the satisfaction of walking in and looking around with my own “So what did you do all day?” look.
Eventually we got back to three kids, two jobs, and one housecleaner, only this time, it was suddenly his idea, so it was okay. Took years.
I have to confess that I am a collector and a piler. He is also a collector and a piler, but his collections are–important. ANd his piles are–hidden. So that’s better. Or so he thinks. Obviously I think my collections are important and my way is better.
Seriously, he’ll leave a wrapper on the kitchen counter or the nightstand when a trash bin is right there.