Last month, our upstairs bathroom light fixture died, leaving us with one working bulb that made the room feel like a horror movie set. I asked my husband to replace it on a Tuesday. Then again on Thursday. By the following week, I was using increasingly creative language to express my frustration about showering in … Read more
Three months ago, Saturday morning cleaning turned into World War III when I discovered my husband had “cleaned” the bathroom by basically moving dirt around with a dry cloth while leaving the toilet untouched because “it didn’t look that bad.” Meanwhile, I’d spent two hours deep-cleaning the kitchen only to find him reorganizing my freshly … Read more
Last Sunday evening, I’m relaxing with a book when I hear my husband loading the dishwasher. Normally this would make me happy, except I can tell from the sounds that he’s committing what I consider crimes against efficient dish organization. Plates facing the wrong direction, bowls nested together where they won’t get clean, silverware thrown … Read more
Two months ago, I’m standing in our kitchen staring at an overflowing trash can that my husband has somehow managed to ignore for three days. The garbage is literally spilling onto the floor, and he’s walked past it approximately twenty-seven times while acting like it’s invisible furniture that doesn’t require human interaction. My usual response … Read more
Last Thursday morning, I’m rushing to get ready for work when I notice the bathroom faucet is still dripping – the same drip I asked my husband to fix three weeks ago. When I mentioned it (again), he looked genuinely surprised and said, “You asked me to fix that? I don’t remember you saying anything … Read more