How I Annoy My Husband: Different Versions of Clean

Paul and I have slightly different versions of cleanliness, but we’re learning to compromise. He’s learning my version and I’m learning to be patient as he learns it. I know my version annoys him, but he’s such a trooper he seldom complains about it.

To be fair, he’s already a neat guy, if you ignore his study. I mention the mess in there on a weekly basis, but don’t insist he clean it. After all, it’s his space. I think a mere question about why he’s not throwing something out doesn’t constitute insisting, right?  Paul’s desk is piled high with papers of all sorts including envelopes, paid bills, and junk mail. A large bookcase behind his desk has a shelf where we keep the printer. The small area behind the printer has become a catch all of various objects including a camera in its case, some tools, and for some reason, a Yosemite Sam Pez Dispenser without the Pez.

On a smaller bookshelf near his desk sits a two-tier plastic shelf haphazardly filled with several years of old tax returns, expired Costco mailers, several pairs of reading glasses, and other papers he means to eventually file or toss. A gray handmade bowl holds about $700.00 in spare change. Another obviously child-made clay bowl is filled with knickknacks like random keys, a Master Lock from middle school and various hooks of unknown use or origin.

“Why are you keeping that Master Lock?” I asked him.

“It has the coolest combination! Number, number, number!”

Of course, I can’t reveal the combination since he might actually use it again one day.

“What are those keys for?”

          “I don’t know, but I might need them.”

The study also carries the scent of eau de cat poop since we keep Rufus’ cat litter in the closet. Our guest bathroom is so small we’d have to stand in the litter to use the toilet if we kept it there. At least I would. I guess Paul could stand to the side of the toilet. Rufus doesn’t mind going into the open closet to do his business and fortunately Paul doesn’t have a good sense of smell. The downside is that Paul can’t always tell when the litter needs cleaning.

“Rufus, P.U.!  Babe, can you please clean the cat litter?”

I can smell the poop from the living room, and it ruins my concentration while watching the news.

Since Rufus was Paul’s cat before we met, cleaning litter, cat vomit, and feeding the always-hungry feline isn’t my job.

We mostly agree on how neat and clean to keep the rest of the house. I’m not a clean freak, but some things are important to me. For example, since I cook dinner, Paul does the dishes. For a while, his timeline for doing dishes was different than mine.

“Sweetie, can you please do the dishes at night instead of leaving them in the sink until morning?”

          “It’s not a problem. I’ll do them in the morning,” he said.

          “Yes, but the food stays on all night and we might get ants.”

          “No we won’t.”

          “But when I do my neti pot, it drains onto the dishes.”

Paul started washing them each night.

Paul makes his coffee in the morning and for several weeks I found coffee grounds on the counter and even on top of the Brita pitcher. How they got there, I’ll never know.

“Babe, I keep finding coffee grounds on the counter. Can you please be careful?”

          Paul couldn’t figure out how they got there, so he reenacted how he makes coffee each morning. It was fascinating. Now he fills the coffee filter over the sink.

Sometimes I find clothing around the house, but luckily not underwear. I place the item on Paul’s side of the bed, so he has to put it away before he goes to sleep. He’s also a messy eater. I always find piles of crumbs on his placemat and on the floor under his chair. I don’t comment on these minor infractions. I know to pick my battles.

Paul leaves the vent on after he takes a shower. I ask him to avoid using it since I’ve heard about those motors overheating and causing a fire. I think that happened at one of the schools where I was teaching. He forgets, so I turn it off myself. But he always remembers to wipe down the chrome shower fixtures and safety bars and squeegee the glass door.

Since Paul works from home, I clean the house. When I wiped off the bathroom counters, sometimes I found tiny black hairs from his beard trimming. Our own hairs don’t bother us, anyone else’s are gross.

“Sweetie, can you please wipe up your beard hairs next time?”

Paul’s solution was to kneel in front of the bathroom counter and trim his beard over the sink. One of the many reasons he’s so wonderful.

Speaking of wonderful, Paul always puts the toilet seat down after he uses it. He has done this since I’ve known him. He also changes the toilet paper roll without being asked. There’s almost nothing worse than going to the bathroom and having nothing to wipe with. Maybe in his past life he was asked too many times, “Can you please bring me some toilet paper?” and he found that annoying.