Worried about leaving DH

[TheMustressMhor]

….for a week while I go four hundred miles away to see our DC.

I shall be gone a week. What will he do? Will I return to find the toilet roll on the wrong way round, as I did the last time I went away? Will I discover that he didn't change the tea towel while I was miles away?

What would you worry about in these circumstances?

(Light-hearted, obviously)

Will he ensure that the hangers are all facing the right way while I'm gone?

I can't tell you of Unspeakableteatowelhabits....Not as bad as Marianas though, thank goodness! Mitzi, mine twats about on a ukulele, which is arguably worse

He'll find Wire Coathangers from the seventh pit of Hell's Wardrobe somewhere and dangle clothes precariously off one side, adding an expensive jumper half over the top.

And leaving another underneath a cat for the week because 'she was asleep'.

@MitziK

I have frequently wondered why DHs are incapable of hanging clothes up accurately and neatly.

@SpongebobJudgeyPants, my commiserations. I've had to teach people like your DH to play the accursed instruments of torture. Men with small hands, you see. And I had to make a living, but I truly apologise for any renditions of Monster Mash or I'm a Believer (complete with 'thump, thump - OI!' after the first line) yours might have picked up from moving in the same circles.

@SpongeBobJudgeyPants

Does yours play Mr. Wu's An Air-Raid Warden Now on his ukulele?

Just wondering...

You teach the piccolo, Mitzi?

well my DH decided on a rare night away to send me photos of my DD vomit, as she had dared be sick on his watch. I did secretly chuckle at his messages saying 'look what she has done to our new carpet', clean it DH and go away as i wont be in a position to transport myself back to do it for you

@theMustressMhor Mine's more of a Pig Destroyer player. He went to a gig last Monday night to see a Norwegian Church Burning Death Metal band. He seemed quite taken aback that I declined the offer to accompany him and suggested he took his daft mate instead. It worked out well, as whilst he was squealing about fistbumping the bass player from Megadeth outside the pub, I was happily occupying my freshly made bed minus a pile of his clean washing on the end.

Grounds for divorce,Lex234?

Almost...but if we were going for grounds for divorce, it would almost certainly be a failure to match and ball socks, poor segregation of different coloured underwear or not refilling the tea caddy

@Lex234

My DS (he of the guitar-strumming) has a dreadful collection of odd socks. Absolutely none of them match. I do not know how he has achieved this.

I fear for his future wife.

Absolutely none of them match.
I fear for his future wife.
Sock matching pre nup. In her favour. You know it is the kind thing to do

The socks disappear into the same parallel universe that plectrums enter as they ping out of your hand whilst playing. It's also the fabled location of the lid of every milk carton that's been left on the countertop, the last teaspoon and the appointment card for the dentist when you've been too busy to add it to the calendar as soon as you get home.

When I do this it's great as the house is always spotless when I come back. Turns out it's me who makes the mess.

Wouldn't inflict piccolo practice upon anybody, @TheMustressMhor. It has the same frequency range as a sixth birthday party after musical bumps, pass the parcel and the individual packets of Haribo have been opened, just as the bouncy castle reaches full inflation.

Upsettingly, last time I left DH home alone I returned to find he had emptied every single bastard cupboard in the kitchen and pantry to “give them a proper clean as they’re filthy”. The smug, self-righteous expression was enough by itself to deserve a tin of beans chucked over him, but the implication that this was somehow an important job that I had been neglecting was completely rage-inducing.

It took a week for him to clean those cupboards and put things away. In the wrong places, inevitably. He also didn’t manage to wash any of my work clothes, despite being asked 3 times to do so. He had to run out to the spar on Sunday evening to buy me wine as there was also, inexplicably, none of that in the house either

At lest the piccolo is portable, MitziK.

I play the organ, and I find it very difficult to fit it into my bag sometimes.

I'm sure that they'd accept a rendition of Toccata and Fugue in D Minor on the Melodeon. It's reeded, it's a keyboard - same difference, surely?

And if that's too much for you, they definitely wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary if you brought out a melodica for a bit of Zadok the Priest.

MitziK and TheMustress No, but he does unfortunately play Leaning on a Lamp and the one about the windowcleaner...

Can't you make him play the banjolele? He's giving ukulele players a bad reputation.

I came out of hospital seriously ill to find the place basically trashed. Lard over every surface as he fried his food in it, the place a pig sty, filth everywhere, shit smeared all over the inside of the toilets and piss on the floor. Then he just left me in that state. never came back.

That's awful @madcatladyforever ... I recently came out of hospital after a week (emergency surgery) and my DH had worked so hard to make our house nice to come home to. He'd changed the bed, cleaned, done all the washing, got in all my favourite foods to get me to eat. I was so grateful.

It sounds like you were well rid of him madcatlady.

That wasn't a good experience for you at all.

Mind you, on the subject of hospital stays - many years ago I was in hospital while pregnant and when I was discharged (still pregnant) DH brought me a pair of boots and an (old) dressing gown with which to get dressed and go home.

I mean - what was he thinking?