It’s Called A Dishwasher, Honey

For anyone who wants to buy me this Oswald the Lucky Rabbit shirt, it’s on sale at Target for $14.99.

All you single ladies out there who long for somebody to snuggle up with at night, for somebody to trap with the unanswerable “does this make me look fat?”…well, keep in mind that with those ups, come some irritating downs.

As anybody in a relationship will tell you, there’s gonna be stuff that the other person does that irks the crap out of you, no matter how in love you are.  For example (this probably marks Part 1 in a series), both Lance and I have the tendency to just leave stuff lying around the house, though between the two of us it manifests in different ways while still driving the other nuts.

One of my many unintentional habits that Lance hates is the fact that I never take my laundry out of the dryer.  I don’t know why I do this; it’s not really a conscious decision to leave it in there so much as it is I hate folding laundry and our laundry closet is also conveniently located right next to the bathroom, so I can just hop out of the shower and grab a pair of undies instead of walking all the way back into the walk-in closet in the bedroom.  This all seems perfectly logical to me, but I know Lance hates when I do this because I’ll randomly find a pile of my clean, unfolded clothes clumped under the bed or next to the cat’s litter box.

Lance’s annoying habit?  Leaving dirty dishes, specifically half-eaten bowls of ice cream, in the kitchen sink.  Ice cream, maybe the second-easiest thing in the world to rise off a dish (second only to an actual liquid), mind you.  Of course, ice cream that’s left out melts and then re-congeals into a tofu-like substance, causing me to experience a gag reflex when I come by an hour later to clean the bowl out and put it in the dishwasher (which is empty, and, oh, RIGHT NEXT TO THE SINK, HONEY.)

I one time even willed myself to stop cleaning Lance’s dirty dishes just to see how long he could go, how high they would pile up, before he broke and cleaned them all himself.  A good two days and five ice cream bowls later (we go through a lot of ice cream in our house), and Lance turns to me from an open cupboard and says, “Why are there no clean dishes?”


The worst part, and why it’s so hard to be legitimately angry over, is that these Annoying Habits are mostly unintentional, or at least we have some weird, abnormal logic that justifies why we do things the way we do (I think this is what murderers say, though…:-/).  Lance is blind to the dishes in the sink just as I’m perfectly fine with leaving clean clothes in the dryer for days on end.

[…Or maybe Lance has just convinced me that he’s all “innocently forgetting” to do the dishes as part of some grand scheme of his to keep me occupied so he can watch Youtube videos of Betty Buckley in Sunset Boulevard in peace…]

So, yeah, single ladies, while it’s nice to have somebody around with whom you can split the Verizon Fios bill, think about the aggravation you’re saving yourselves from.

This is why people become nuns.

2 thoughts on “It’s Called A Dishwasher, Honey

  1. Pingback: Passive Aggression: The Musical | Lance + Jeff

  2. Pingback: Lance + Jeff | Hot Lance

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