To think I hit my husband with a door in a perfectly reasonable fashion?

[HoneyDragon]

Dh came into the kitchen/diner from the living room and decided to pour a glass of wine. Rather than walk around the bench he opts to lean over the table pushed against the bench from the dining room side, resulting in him standing directly in front of the main door into the kitchen from the hallway pouring his wine.

I came downstairs and walked into the kitchen and hit him with the door, thoroughly splashing him in red wine too.

He was disgruntled when I politely enquired

"What the bleeding fuck are standing in front of the door for?"

I maintain if you stand consciously directly in front of a door you should not be surprised and disgruntled if another family member opens the door, and that he should walk the extra four foot into the kitchen and pour wine like a normal person.

He maintains it is perfectly acceptable to take the shortest route and that the door opener should be more careful.

I maintain that he was justly hit by a door for being a dimwit and I am wholly unreasonable.

Is the door injured?

Can't get over how jealous of that kitchen I am. If I had a sofa in my kitchen I'd probably never leave - I bet you've got a telly in there too, haven't you? Possibly a spiffy one that appears as if from nowhere.

And here's me camping out in my grotty-kitchened house that currently has no bathroom .

Honeydragon have you ever thought of doing a cartoon blog, we would love it! Laughing so much at your diagrams.

That diagram is hilarious!!!

Elle, I went from a teeny tiny house sharing a room with Ds to this one with my dream kitchen. I most sit in it and go "squeeeeeee" when no ones looking

I had to mop my beautiful floor this morning, there was wine on it.

However, I decided to forgive dh and cooker sausage patties, mash and onion gravy. He had in a tray in the lounge* because I didn't want him cluttering up my lovely kitchen I'm all forgiving and lovely like that.

*all crappy manly black pleather and greys in that room

*sharing with dd, not ds.

I have almost wet myself reading this thread OP. The diagrams in particular are fantastic

No, HoneyD, you've made my day! That's hilarious! YADDDDDNBU. Even DH says your DH is a dickhead.

Oo, how do you make sausage patties?

Fair enough, Honey, I don't really begrudge you a nice kitchen . My teeny tiny house may be missing a bathroom but that's cos we're having a super new one fitted. When I grow up I will have a kitchen like yours!

I have to delurk because I am crying with laughter.

I also have a sofa in my kitchen. It's mostly covered with clean laundry. And a violin for some reason.

Sausage meat, mix in a bit of spring onion or onion. Whatever herbs or flavouring you fancy.I use Honey,or paprika or mustard usually. Chuck in Apple if you like it/want to stop small DC getting scurvy. Shape into patties.

Chuck in oven for about half an hour on a medium heat. They are lovely.

Do you play the fiddle to celebrate when the laundry gets put away?

want to stop small DC getting scurvy.

Far too little information here to form a judgment. How expensive was the wine? If cheap then LTB (no gentleman drinks cheap wine), if expensive then you have some apologising to do.

I nicked a sofa from my sister. She will never know.

Gentlemen bloody well drink cheap wine on Monday nights when the cars due a service!

1. How does anyone poke themselves in the eye THAT BADLY??? I know it's a man but surely at some point you realise maybe this isn't the best idea and you need a woman to sort it?

1. Very nice kitchen, shame about green DH with oozing eye

1. The other DH hitting boiling water with a spatula made me laugh loud enough for my neighbours to worry. Is there a better implement for admonishing pasta?

Coo, Skatergrrrrl, how do you nick a sofa? You must be jolly strong.

HoneyDragon, I feel that you are telling us something deep and dark about your life. Should you be on Relationships? Meanwhile here's a glass of Graham 1955, it's DH's .

DH once tackled the rebellious pasta thing by hurling it, saucepan and all, into the sink in a fit of pique at its defiance.

It took out several mugs and splashed pasta-ry water everywhere. I closed the kitchen door on him with instructions that he was to remain in there, think about what he had done, clean up his mess and find something else for us to eat.