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Once I'm dead my wife will turn into one of those mad old ladies who fills her house full of newspapers and magazines.
Her body won't be found until they empty the magazine mountain into a fleet of skips.
Trying to get her to get rid of a magazine can result in world war 3. She subscribes to every cooking , gardening and travel magazine going. Most of the time she is quite normal...... but jeeeeesus.
Collects all manner of cheap or free shit from local Facebook groups, comes back with something every day, just utter shit
I wonder what she says about your bike parts 😉 ?
Filling the sink until it almost overflows just to wash a spoon...
I've many foibles and thank my lucky stars that I have her as I'd be hard pushed to find anyone willing to put up with me...
She is my positive force and the proverbial firework up the jacksie that I need.
However, she has inherited her mother's knack of taking ages, meandering, mentioning every (irrelevant) detail when giving information or telling a story. When I start finishing her sentences (knowing what's coming), or gesticulating that she should get to the point she's gets in a huff and clams up.
After a weekend away in the van she feels the need to get everything washed on the Sunday evening (wash marathon) despite us having time on Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday etc to do the washing. This invariably means one or both of us stay up later than necessary waiting for the machine to finish and/or running out of dyer space to hang things up. Things get hung on the back of doors, chairs etc.
The amount of time needed to get ready. Why it takes her 45minutes each morning to get out the house I've no idea (partly because I refuse to get up until she is out the house.... I'm not a particularly sociable person in the morning).
Asking me what the weather is like or if it is cold outside before deciding what to wear despite me not having been outside and that I put a thermometer outside one of the windows for this very purpose.
The amount of clothing/layers she takes with us when we go ride or walk. Invariably I end up carrying most of it and sweat out due to the excess weight in the bag. However, I blame her folks for this.... Today there are lots of Germans running around with those feather filed jackets on despite it being 22'c outside. In wearing shorts and am on the verge of going topless.
And just yesterday.... Bitching when trying to drift/get her car sideways around the bends on the pass road. B-)
Using a new cup/mug/glass for every drink and then dumping it in the sink for the washing up fairy to get clean. usually with the tea bag still in the cup.
Putting sharp knives in the washing up bowl camouflaged by suds so the washing up fairy cuts hands again.
Riding the clutch on the car EVERY time it is stationary. Wonders why there is a burning smell coming from the car and why the clutch is 'going again'. This one drives me particularly postal.
Leaving the Hoover at the top of the stairs for me to fall over. Again.
However, I wouldn't change a thing about her - not one thing. Well, maybe the clutch riding. That's expensive.
This thread is epic, probably the most i've laughed reading the forum in 10 years! Mostly when people mention the word huff, makes me chuckle as I can just imagine the huffing
When changing gear she lets the revs drop right down so there's a 'thunk' with every shift. I'm not even mentioning it, she's only recently stopped regularly shifting from 4th gear to 1St rather than 5th. Apparently the indexing is faulty (it's not). That was a more serious issue.
Thermostat set to 24 degrees & heating on every second of the day.
All the lights left on.
Kitchen cupboard so full of crap it all falls onto the floor each time a door is opened.
Incapable of tidying up or throwing anything away.
Spare room stacked floor to ceiling with junk.
Bank statements & old bills randomly stuffed into any drawer.
RAHHHHHH - Its so much better now we dont live together.
Being a grumpy bitch, especially when on the blob.
Mrs Fettlin is the yin to my yang, but by God's does she grind my gears over certain things:
Late. Every. Time. We. Go. Out. To the point now where anybody we arrange to meet always allows 'Mrs Fettlin' time to the ETA.
An inability to learn how to operate the bluray player. We have a harmony remote, so it couldn't be easier, but whenever I show her she just says 'oh it's too complicated, you do it' then moans I've never shown her!
(See also iplayer, amazon prime etc).
Using my socks when she wears wellies (all the time for the horses). I can never find my nice thick socks, oh, here they are in your stock drawer love, how did that happen 🙄
Talking at me about her day at work. As soon as she gets in. Weather I ask or not. I may as well go to work with her as I'm also expected to remember what happened yesterday, it feels line I've done her day at work as well. Oh, and then never asks about my day.
All of these are just part off what makes her so special, so I don't let them get to me as I'm sure when the boot is on the other foot the list would be just as long 🙂
Claiming not to have heard the 'safe word' 😯
😉
Quite a few of the the traits listed above manifest themselves in Mrs B, plus:
Putting the bedside light on the middle of the night to find something on her bedside table instead of just being able to remember where the item is that she was looking for.
Getting up in the night to go to the loo and without fail blowing her nose every time she returns to the bedroom. Why can this but be done in the bathroom?
I'm fairly sure she does this in response to my ability to be asleep with 10 seconds of my head hitting the pillow. Her nose blowing and light show theatrics quite often disturb my slumber but I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of admitting it.
Every Christmas / Birthday she buys the kids presents which contain thousands of small parts (you know like hama beads, play doh sets, littlest pet shop, kinetic sand) and then complains that the kids have too much stuff and the floor is covered in sand.
(Great thread BTW. STW at its finest. )
beamers comment above reminds me: my ability to fall asleep in a matter of seconds is a source of immense frustration for my wife, who [s]sometimes[[/s] often wakes me up, shortly after I've fallen asleep, to tell me off for being so annoying, at being able to drop off, so hard, so fast.
I put it down to my clear conscience, and regular exercise.
Oh, and booze, of course.
beamers comment above reminds me: my ability to fall asleep in a matter of seconds is a source of immense frustration for my wife, who sometimes[ often wakes me up, shortly after I've fallen asleep, to tell me off for being so annoying, at being able to drop off, so hard, so fast.
So its not just me.
Last night my head hit the pillow at 2200. At 2210 the house was buzzed by a low flying fast jet which I slept right through. Mrs B was not happy.
Why when she is driving does she go round every corner like it's a fifty pence piece.
The way she always says she's 'never been here/there before', when I've got photographic proof that she has.
Oh the complete lack of sense of direction and never remembering any directions or the road she has taken before 1000 times or just generally anything about directions really
The hand towel hangs on a rail beneath the bathroom basin. After washing my hands, I just want to reach down and be able to dry my hands and walk away.
She seems to have to do this elaborate quadruple folding thing with the towel so that if you even so much as think about using it, it's fallen on the floor beneath the basin whereupon I have to scrabble about retrieving it.
I then put it back in a simple half-loop back over the rail (which means it dries better) and you can use it without having to reinstall it every single time.
She rocks mind. 🙂
Clogging up the TV recorder with stuff she never watches but insists she will one day. There's still some 2012 Olympic Games stuff waiting to be watched.
I did ask, once, and was told it was because otherwise the tea bags were too hot to go straight in the bin. I'm amazed I haven't caused a bin fire yet.
I bet your other half hates it when there's bin juice caused by the dripping, steaming tea bags in the bin.
Apparently my personal failing is putting chewing gum back in the packet after I've chewed it [used gobs in the blister pack with the foil stuck to it].
😀
every single morning she wakes up and complaines she's tired and hasn't had enough sleep. Then gets into a huff when I remind her that yet again she spent the night playing some stupid iPhone game or while watching some shite on the telly.
Oh, and saying wer're skint while simultaneously booking really expensive holidays, weekends at the Grand national / ascot etc. All of which require multiple trips to the shops to get more bloody clothes.
Oh, and saying she'll help in any diy task and loosing interest after 3 brush strokes then complaining how long it's taken
Oh, and breathing, her £&@"ing breathing.
I'm making me a new patio......
Her stacking of the washing up on the draining board defies all logic. Starts with wine glasses as a foundation, then plates as the first floor and topped off with a stack of mugs, dishes etc ! I kid you f*****g not !
The sound of broken crockery is common in our house. The other day dinner plates were balanced on their sides between glasses and mugs !
She also likes to put chicken in the wok, full gas, then go and prepare the vegetables while completely ignoring the smoking chicken which inevitably sets off the smoke detectors. It's called a stir fry for a good reason, so don't abandon it !