‘You’re So Hard to Live With’

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So, this pile of extraneous crap accumulates in the kitchen — magazines, mail, cards, etc. — and the kitchen is an area I try very hard to keep clean, because that’s where I keep my food supply.

I ask my wife, while I’m wiping down the kitchen, if she’ll do something about the pile of crap. “Well,” she says, “some of that is yours, too.”

OK, I say, and I make two piles — hers and mine. I then dispose of mine, which, for whatever it’s worth, was much smaller than hers. Just sayin, right? And I leave her pile to sort through at her leisure.

This morning, she addressed the issue by sort of smearing the pile across the counter. I’m not sure why. Perhaps she’s waiting on it to cool? I don’t know. But then she settled in to play on her new iPad. The one I waded through hell to get her last night — the day it came out.

And yet, she still manages to scowl when I tell her she’s so hard to live with. Natch.

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I'm sooo going to get in trouble for this

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