Everything in its place

My beloved husband and I do the best we can. Yet there are days when he reaches the outer limits of my sanity. Those limits are most days, much more reachable than others.

The past month or so, there has been a bloody war over where the dishtowel in the kitchen goes. In his mind, it belongs laying on top of the dishwasher, flat. In mine, it hangs on the oven door when neither the oven or the dishtowel are in use.

The shower chair I use, must never be in the bathtub, even though this man barely showers once per week. It must be on the floor, in front of the bathtub, forcing me to have to lift it over the tub and inside when I need to shower.

It finally got to the point that I no longer put the groceries away except for the cold stuff. When a package comes that I order, I no longer take it further than the table. I will open it in front of him, grab the first thing that I’m going to use, and leave the rest for him.

The household mail? Same thing. I put it on the table, and unless it is something that I personally need to answer, I leave it.

Is this petty? Hell yes. Is this war? Ditto. Why? The man is bored. He wants to control something, anything. I let him.

Hugs my friends, sometimes letting go is not a kindness. -L


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