And Don't Pee On The Seat

 

You can't live with someone and not be ticked off by some of their idiosyncrasies once in a while. I know I'm not perfect, though close to it. If Mark buys a bag of Pepperidge Farm cookies for himself, I will probably eat them all before he even knows the bag is open. The remote and DVR in the living room are my domain, and if Mark starts trying to record one of his stupid reality shows on that television, I will simply delete it.

What Mark does that drives me crazy is that he can't seem to close things, or replace things when they run out. Yesterday he was complaining that the warning bell in the car kept going off, and the dome light wouldn't turn off. I went out and took a look. After spying the rear drivers side door ajar, I closed it tightly and asked "Is that better?". He also leaves toothpaste tubes open and oozing, pill bottles sitting around with the lids off, and empty containers everywhere. It is one reason that I use the guest bathroom and leave the one in the bedroom for him. That and the fact that he leaves the bathroom looking like a swamp every morning. The guest bathroom is my domain, and I try to keep it clean and tidy with everything in it's place, and all the consumable supplies handy and refilled. That is why I was so pissed when Mark scampered past me and closed himself up in my bathroom this morning. "Are you using my bathroom?" I screamed, "What's wrong with yours?". I think the muffled answer from behind the bathroom door, makes my point. "There's no toilet paper in the other one!"