The Obligatory Sad Tea Bag Wake and other kitchen nonsense...

[LadyJaye]

My OH is a lovely man, but for some reason, putting a tea bag in the food waste bin is ANATHEMA to him: we all must respect the Obligatory Sad Tea Bag Wake, where it sits pathetically by the side of (or worse, in) the sink until I can stand it no longer and put it in the fucking bin where it should have been in the first place.

What kitchen nonsense goes down in your house?

He stacks up glass bottles between the bin and my baking cupboard, so they're in my fucking way when I go to get out baking parchment or a cake tin. I don't bake every day, so he gets away with it for a while even though we have "had it out" several times and he has contritely agreed not to do it. He drinks and I don't, and he's too fucking lazy to go to the bottle bank which is 100 yards up the road.

The completely unforgivable "toast crumbs in the butter."

He apparently is incapable of hanging up the hand towel after using it, instead throws it on the counter where is sits damply developing a funk. Despite me repeatedly asking him to hang it up.

Cutlery must languish in the washing up bowl until the Washing Up Unicorn arrives to clean it & put it away. This goes doubly so for spoons. They must not be disturbed from their slumber so if another spoon is required a fresh one must be taken out of the drawer. Newly used spoon then joins the rest of its pack in the sink. Repeat (but don't rinse).

Someone would appear to like pouring oil over their hands and then wipingand pressing them all over every cupboard door and drawer in the kitchen. But not ever over the handles, no. They are pristine.

DH leaves screwed up bits of kitchen towel all over the bloody place. Apparently, he thinks he might 'get use out of them again'. Perhaps as papier mache? I don't know... I regularly remark that if I outlive him I will know he is 'visiting' me if I find shitty little bits of kitchen towel everywhere. Other people get white feathers from the other side. I'll get bloody chewed up remnants of Thirst Pockets.

Recycling is something that is believed in by teen inhabitants for the purpose of environmental protests but quickly cast aside when in one's own home. All recycling, particularly junk food wrappers and cans, are suddenly all good for landfill.

Teabags rest in peace in a little bowl, specially designed for dead teabags near the kettle, until they overflow, and travel to the bin.

My ex used to do that with the teabags. The bin is literally 2 steps from the kettle, but no, he had to get a little bowl out of the cupboard and put that on the side to put the teabags in instead. I don’t get it!!

A DSis of mine always uses her teabags twice. Frugal is her middle name.

So in her Christmas present I once included a dear little teapot-shaped teabag rest, in a tasteful William Morris pattern. 😂 (Red Strawberry Thief, in case anyone would like to know.). Amazing what you can find in the British Museum shop!

DH reorganises the dishwasher after I’ve (sensibly - I’m not just cramming stuff in!) loaded it, so that it complies with his Byzantine rules of optimal plate and saucepan placement. Drives me mad!

the recycling shrine

all inhabitants of the house are keen recyclers. tins, bottles and jars are sorted from the general waste and placed, not in the recycling bins immediately outside the backdoor, but on the work surface nearest to the back door, where they are to be admired for days and days.

According to an ancient law, only the High Priestess of recycling (ie me) is permitted actually to open the back door and put the recycling in the bin.

My husband can rinse items for recycling. Other than the manky peanut butter jar. I haven't eaten peanut butter in years, he has it every morning on toast. Contrary to what he may think, I don't have a specialist contraption to effortlessly remove all remaining peanut butter as I stand and watch. What I do use is a hand, brush, fairy liquid and some hot water. He also has access to these same items but no, there it lingers on my worktop until it annoys me enough to clean.

In defence I really hate it when people put steaming hot tea bags straight in the compost caddy which then gets all condensationy and steamy and stinky. Mine go on a little tea bag leaf by the kettle until they are cool, then I put them in

I confess to also having a teabag saucer. Just because it dries them out and I find it less messy to tip into my under sink recycling bin with impractical white cupboard doors.

We also leave the washing up on the draining board to dry rather than using a tea towel. It takes no more than 60 seconds to clear what's on there. My husband seems to find it far more logical to stack the new round of washing up, on top of the dry stuff, in a wet leaning tower of Pisa construction. Try to extract one item (a bit like Buckeroo) and a small pile of clean items fall happily back into the dirty washing up water. And thus the cycle starts again.

And lo, the man he couldth not decideth if he required of himself the nourishment of a second sandwich and so he merrily cast his butter-streak knife aside to wobble forth on the edge on yon sink where it should weep greasy tears for its slain brethren sleeping fitfully neath the bubbled waters below, and await its fate.

The near mandatory placing of used crockery/cutlery items, on the counter above the dishwasher, even when it's been emptied.

I am of course perfect and have no annoying habits at all. I definitely never place used knives balancing on the side in case I want another sandwich, for example.

My husband however is incapable of rinsing out empty milk cartons or glass jars or whatever immediately and putting them in the recycling immediately. They get put on the side and collect there, forming a retinue of recycling, if you will, or a posse of packaging. After HUGE discussions he is ever so slowly improving and now the collection rarely moves beyond say 4 items. I once counted 14 before I caved and threw it out myself.

He also has an absolute horror of putting things in the dishwasher, they have to enjoy a period of grace in the sink first. Which means the dishwasher is never filled, which means it's not turned on. He seems to hate turning it on?

He doesn't take the extra two steps to put things in the recycling bin. Just piles them up by the utility door

He thinks it acceptable to pole all his dirty dishes where the cats eat - and leaves them. Then complains as the cats destroy his pile or meow loudly until it’s moved.

DH is unable to clean glasses to leave them streak free. He does do the washing up though I suspect rarely with hot water

Incapable or putting butter knives away if he's made a sandwich or cut cake, I frequently find them in the bread bin or fridge.

Thankfully he does many things I'm grateful for, hanging the washing out is not one of them.

Using a different cup for every sodding coffee or tea every day then bringing said soiled cup from his high tower to the lowly kitchen and leaving on the work surface directly above the EMPTY dishwasher.

A cheerful flinging of lids - beer bottles, milk bottles, jars etc - over the draining rack as if they were hundreds and thousands. I’m the only one who ever lifts up the rack and therefore reaps the “rewards” of the Great Sprinkling: dozens of the little bastards resting peacefully (and handily preventing draining so silting up muck).

DH has to get things “ready” ages before he wants them.
So when getting his morning cuppa he will get the ingredients out of the fridge for his lunch - why?

@TheTurn0fTheScrew

the recycling shrine

all inhabitants of the house are keen recyclers. tins, bottles and jars are sorted from the general waste and placed, not in the recycling bins immediately outside the backdoor, but on the work surface nearest to the back door, where they are to be admired for days and days.

According to an ancient law, only the High Priestess of recycling (ie me) is permitted actually to open the back door and put the recycling in the bin.

This exactly what I came in to say. You have to go through our utility to get to the garage. Recycling gets as far as the sink or worktop.