Life can be messy, especially with socks on the floor and sauce on the ceiling

I want a candy bar. Or a brownie. A cream cheese brownie.

I’m a little tense and cranky today and snacks fix crankiness, everyone knows that.

It could be the weather – we just wrapped up the third rainiest June on record and July is off to a gray start.

Or it could be because of the half-dozen socks I found on the bedroom floor last night. Or the lights left on in the bedroom and bathroom. Or the pen I found in the washing machine when I moved stuff to the dryer (he loaded the washer — the same washer I recently paid $75 to fix after it overflowed through my dining room ceiling because of a quarter stuck in the hose). Or the empty Jell-O cup and spoon on the kitchen table – a half-dozen steps from the trash can and sink. Or the open silverware drawer … my head started to explode a tiny bit.

So I nagged – sarcastic nagging of course. It’s the only kind I do. (“You know that switch on the wall that turns on the light? Well it works to turn OFF the light, too. Amazing, isn’t it?”)

But I hate doing that – I hate thinking he’d be justified in telling his friends I was being a nag. Not that I think he’d complain about me to his friends, but he could.

I’m not a neat freak, not even close. Clutter and dust are my friends (as my Mom’s favorite magnet says: “Dull women have immaculate homes.”) In fact, the only reason I discovered a few years ago that my boyfriend keeps clothes on the floor next to the bed in case there is an emergency in the middle of the night, is because I had ankle surgery and we had to switch sides of the bed to accommodate my cast. This meant that he was now on the side closest to the bedroom door – meaning I now saw the clothes every time I hobbled in or out of the bedroom.

I didn’t see them before because they were on the other side of the bed. I told a friend this story and realized by her puzzled expression that while whining about his clothes on the floor, I was accidentally outing myself as a lazy bed-maker. I’m a pull-the-covers-up-in-one-quick-move woman, unless I’m changing the sheets, then I fully make the bed. And I never noticed the clothes before when I changed the sheets because either he helped me and stood on his side, or cleverly picked them up when he saw that I was stripping the bed. (Note to self: He sometimes helps me change the sheets.)

I told him a few years back that it may annoy me (and sometimes really, REALLY annoy me), but messiness is not a deal breaker. Good thing too, because he is m-e-s-s-y. From the socks on the bedroom floor to the red sauce on the kitchen ceiling. Our rule is he cooks, I clean. It sometimes takes me longer to clean up than it took him to make dinner. Really, red sauce on the ceiling, I’m not kidding. (Note to self: He loves cooking and is great at it. I hate cooking, and it shows.)

So being messy may push me to the edge, but it’s not a deal breaker. I will likely whine or nag — because seriously, how hard is it to check your pockets before putting clothes in the washer? (Note to self: He does his own laundry.) Or to pick up your socks? No lie, there is usually one sock next to the bed and the other one in the hallway or by the door. I’m not sure how he does that … does he kick it, or is he still wearing it and literally walks out of it?

But compared to some relationships I’ve been in, messiness is pretty forgivable.

I’m pretty sure he considers nagging to be forgivable, too. Of course, I wouldn’t have to nag (or give in to cranky snacking*) if he’d just pick up the damn socks.

What annoying habits make you want to strangle your spouse or significant other?

*Don’t worry, I didn’t give in!