Last year for one of my writing classes, we were all asked to write about something that irritated us, so that we could practice describing that feeling. I found it when I was sorting through some documents today!
Just keep in mind in case you miss this: I am making fun of myself for the little things in life that get on my nerves, not criticizing my husband.
When I got married, people told me that I would find myself arguing with my husband about the pettiest things. I shook my head at them in pity. No, not me…never. That is clearly only for people who haven’t gone through premarital counseling or don’t know what their Love Language is. Yet here I am, two years later, ready for a knock-down-drag-out with my husband about dishrags. It is a blow to my pride to admit that it has come to this, but it is the truth.
We have a reasonable amount of dishrags, at least seven or eight…enough for an entire week of clean dishrags. However, my husband seriously resists putting the old dishrag into the laundry and bringing a new one out of the drawer. Furthermore, he finds it unnecessary to rinse out the dishrag after using it, or to hang it nicely along the edge of the sink so that it can dry out. It is very disconcerting to come into the kitchen to wipe the counter, only to find the rag full of food particles, coffee grounds, and crumpled beneath a pile of dirty dishes.
We had to do away with sponges altogether because I read somewhere that they are basically like breeding grounds for bacteria…little petri dishes for diseases that can be used to wipe your kitchen surfaces. However exaggerated this might be, I just can’t bring myself to use a sponge or a dishrag more than couple of times unless I soak it alternately in each liquid cleaner found in my house.
Maybe after having children, I will ease up about the germ factor in our kitchen, and embrace the dirty dishrags and sponges altogether. In the meantime though, my husband will probably have to suffer through my lectures, and indignant marches from the kitchen to the washing machine. What is the solution to our deep seeded marital problem? Probably paper towels!
3 comments:
hey , glad to see ya. I see that you checked out my blog thing.
ok. Leah, this made me laugh. The whole dishrag dilemma. I'm still laughing in fact!
For Ken and I, it has always been getting his dirty clothes to the hamper. I think I would die of shock if one day he did it! It's been 14.5 years, it hasen't changed. Get used to the dirty dishrags, girl!
Oh, our men. We love them anyway! ha ha
You could put them under his pillow every time you find them in that state. That might send a message =).
As for having kids, that definitely could change you're outlook! But, I do know some folks where this only seems to heighten their awareness of the lurking germs!
And I love the image.
Oh my gosh, me too. I just don't think Mike sees germs as an issue ;). He could wipe the floor, and the cupboards and then wash the dishes with the same rag and think there was no problem. I have to switch rags out almost every day, and there has to be a different rag for every task ;).
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