Inconsequential but HIGHLY irritating things your DH does

[itslikecakesbutitsnotcakes]

I’m not talking ‘fails to do any housework’ or ‘won’t parent his own kids’ but minor irritations that make you want to scream but you can’t because its so petty. For me

Refuses to use the automatic windscreen wiper. Instead he waits until he has no visibility and then manually flips the wiper on once. In heavy rain he’s doing it every couple of seconds. Just put the bloody auto wipers on!!

Unloads the dishwasher but leaves select things stacked up ‘near’ the cupboard or drawer they live in rather than putting them away. Apparently they are left there to ‘thoroughly dry’.

Rage!!!

People get annoyed by things. That’s normal.

Sneeze!! He sneezes so loudly there is no need for it to be that loud. Also comes in from work when I have had the kids all day and goes for a thirty minute shit!!

Never puts the dry washing up away. Just washes up and balances it on top!!

"no dire steamy bin consequences"😂

Moves my things without telling me, then MOVES THEM BACK when I return them to where I want them to be

That would drive me absolutely nuts. I don't think I could ever have saddled myself with someone who did this, no matter how great he might be in other ways. I'm very hypersensitive to table manners and eating related things and if something gives me the massive ick that's it. Game over.

All of the above… plus…. Any time I cook and put plates of food on the table he will say “which one is mine?” Even though we have sat at the same places at the table for 25 years….

He does the laundry hanging thing - as far as I can tell, he'll take any two points on the garment (not shaken out, of course), position these roughly 8 inches apart on the line, and apply the clothes pegs.

Yep. That's it exactly. The Man Method. Any two points on the garment. Could be the hem of one leg of a pair of trousers and then the waistband. Or the lower left corner of a shirt, followed by the cuff of the opposite side. So the wet fabric will collapse down onto itself in a damp steaming heap, until it's brought indoors five hours later, still in a damp, steaming heap. Instead of hanging freely and drying most efficiently in the breeze. No logic, no finesse. Woefully insufficient spacing. Seriously inept fuckwittery. And the pained expression they wear when they are doing this, like it's a challenge on the Krypton Factor and it's blowing their tiny minds.

I'd love to know what precisely those are.

We have been eating dinner at 6.00-6.15 for the last 53 years. When I call out that dinner is on the table he says Oh! all surprised as if we have never eaten at that time of day before. One of these days it's going to end up on his head.

Another one:
if I ask him if he fancies doing something at a weekend he looks panicked and says, 'Ooh, I hadn't thought about it.'
No, I wasn't expecting you to have thought about it in advance and prepared a fucking presentation about it, I'm just trying to open a discussion about what we might do today.

DH is very good at physically clearing dishes away after dinner and loading the dishwasher (and also unloads it most of the time) but almost never wipes down any of the worksurfaces, or the dining table, or the hob. Just leaves them sporting whatever debris remains.

However, on the rare ocassion that he does wipe something he soaks a dishcloth but then doesn't squeeze it out, just sort of swirls the sodden, dripping thing round the surfaces until everything is soaking, then just leaves it like that.

Then doesn't rinse or even squeeze out the dirty dishcloth but just leaves it in a soggy heap on the draining board.

I've stopped making spaghetti bolognese/carbonara ... anything involving spaghetti really, as I can't stand the way he eats it.

Me too 🤣

That is seriously one of my biggest pet hates. I'd had have brained him and served time by now. Likewise, people who don't use nice absorbent dishcloths for wiping kitchen counters, but one of those tiny, useless, not very absorbent sponges with a scourer on one side. They are scouring pads, not dishcloths. They leave the worktop wet and don't pick up crumbs properly. Please for the love of God, just STOP doing simple things badly and with the wrong tools.

Does he cut it up with a knife and fork? I think that's pretty much grounds for divorce. Mine will cut it with his fork then try to pile all the short strands onto his spoon. I have to look away or I'll say something I'll regret.

YES! I sat opposite him a few weeks ago and it gave me the serious rage.

Oh my friend does something similar.

If you're eating roast chicken dinner or something. He'll cut up all his meat, his potatoes his veg into bite size pieces (like you might for a toddler) and then eat it
It's like he never moved onto "grown up" eating where you cut a bit, eat it...cut a bit more etc.

Another one. My job involves very deep thinking. As a result, I am very good at zoning the world out and getting very deep and lost in my own thoughts.

And when someone speaks or even walks into the room, I will jump out of my skin because I'm so IN MY HEAD that it's like a jump scare.

It's a me problem, not a him problem. My son makes me jump. The dog barking or doorbell ringing makes me jump.

But he gets really offended if it's him that makes me jump. Like, actively storms off in a huff sometimes.

Like dude, YOU made ME jump why are you the one being all dramatic and huffy about it? I'm not!

The shoutsneezing. I am capable of sneezing without engaging vocal chords, so why won't he?

Using my late father's expensively reupholstered Victorian chair as a dumping ground for random tech items - currently a record player.

Oh my God 😬

Mine does, too. He thinks it's too messy, otherwise, no matter how much I point out that it's the flicky ends that make the mess, so if you cut it up, there are more flicky ends.

Mine has it on auto or full all the time and has it wiping a rain free windscreen! Thereby knackering the wiper blades. Drives me mad - I just give it the odd swish. Maybe we need to swap husbands (not like THAT 😂)

My husband has a very theatrical pantomime cough. When he's got a cold it's an extremely serious business. His cough is like something from a scene in a film about the Black Death. All he needs is a grubby white bedshirt, a flea ridden horsehair mattress and a red cross painted on the front door and we're good to go. It's important that we all know he has a Very Bad Cough and a great deal of effort goes into making it as exaggerated and as possible.

I stand with my arms folded and one eyebrow arched and make passive aggressive comments like 'Oh dear, we are poorly, aren't we?'

WHAT !!!
Grounds for divorce for definite.