Keris Stainton‘s weekly column on married life…
Inspired by (i.e. ripped off) a series of posts by my friend Mum’s the Word (not her real name!), I thought I’d celebrate my return from a relaxing holiday by venting about some of the things that really, really annoy me about my husband. Don’t worry, he’ll get his chance too.
Okay, first up is how he can’t do anything in the kitchen – apparently not even walk through it to the garden – without leaving a puddle of water on the countertop. Now I know he’s not alone in doing this – I read Mariella Frostrup complaining about her husband doing the same thing – but why can’t he ever wipe it up? And how does it even happen? If he’s pouring water in to a cup to make tea, how can he miss? The stream of water is considerably smaller than the receptacle he’s aiming for. And what does that remind you of?
Also, and I know I’ve mentioned this before, but it really bugs me – socks. He takes them off, he pairs them up into a ball. He puts them in the wash balled, he takes them out balled and he sits them on the radiator to dry … still balled. How long does it take to separate a pair of socks? No, it’s not even that, because he paired them in the first place. Why pair them to put them in the wash?
So in the spirit of equality, I asked David what annoys him about me. That I can never find anything – my bag, my glasses, the book I’m reading – “especially when it’s where you left it,” he said. Also that I never finish a cup of tea.
Ah, we’re back to tea. While he constantly tells me I can’t make a decent cup of tea, he still asks me to make him one on a regular basis. If I hesitate, he says, “All right, I’ll make it, you can’t make tea anyway.” So why does he keep asking me to do it then? And, yes, I admit, he does make a better cup of tea than me, but if on occasion he makes it too weak or too milky and I point this out, he gets a strop on because he reckons I’m too fussy. And yet he’d rather make tea himself because he doesn’t like the way I make it. Oh okay, I see. I’m “fussy”, he’s “discerning”. (This linguistic double standard probably deserves a column of its own.)
I do accept that everyone has their irritating little habits. I prefer to think of mine as endearing, but David probably does too (and he’s wrong). I guess the key is to just accept them and try not to get too stressed. Otherwise you might find yourself strangling your husband with a pair of his own (balled) socks.