I truly married the perfect man. He’s thrifty, neat, quiet and sober. His parents had both passed before I ever came on the scene. He has no siblings or children and his ex is running from the law so we never hear from her. Plus he’s a retired auto mechanic. I can call him about a funny noise in the car and when I get home he’s standing in the driveway with the part in his hand.
But like most people he has some quirks. There was our initial fight over the dishwasher. (I didn’t load it correctly.) But that was quickly solved by making the dishes his job. The big thing now is management of our trash, something else I don’t do correctly.
Despite the fact that we only fill up about two kitchen sized trash bags per week and they cost mere pennies, they must be stuffed to absolutely overflowing before they can be taken out to the can. And then he doesn’t take them out, but leaves them by the back door until I get sick of looking at them (and smelling them) and take them myself.
To read more please log in or subscribe to the digital edition. http://www.etypeservices.com/Forney%20MessengerID423/
- Log in or Subscribe to post comments.