When you first make the decision to cohabitate with someone, there is a learning curve of great proportions as the Honeymoon Period draws to a close. It is steep, as you then battle for sides of the bed and general personal space. You begin trespassing on one anothers favorite food like hungry, inconsiderate raccoons. Early risers irritating the Sleeper Inners. Messy habits infuriating the OCD of the Neatniks. Being beholden, on the low, to the true owner of the space. And privacy becomes a What?!?
And you do it for the sake of the relationship. You do it in the name of respect. To keep this companion close (and supposedly happy), you pick your battles and you learn to bend (repeatedly). You make the necessary alterations and eventually learn to accept these quirks as ‘delightful!’ and even endearing (lies. All lies).
One of the last In-Home, Still-Married, At Our Limit, Last-Resort contentions my wife and I had was about coffee. Specifically, coffee grounds. More specifically, accidental coffee grounds in the silverware drawer. Even more specific, you say? To which I say…Did I do that?!
I, myself, was never an accuser of these types of things. For the sake of being a peaceful partner and to keep things neat for the kids, I would walk behind, quietly clean messes and hang clothes. I heartily subscribe to the theory of wanting things done right, and doing them thusly. Now. Not “later” (eyeroll). But…times have changed. Boy Howdy, have they.
So, what, when your “new roomie” has messy hobbies like, oh, let’s just use fly fishing as an example. More accurately, making, airbushing and tying flies *for* fly fishing. Or clutter creating hobbies like woodburning, rock polishing, wood carving and metal detecting. Hypothetically speaking, of course. How on earth does a minimally (majorly) particular person deal with these many scraps and pieces and tools in their space. In ALL their spaces. Covering. Every. Space!
Well…Wuvv. You bend. And you do it for the sake of the partnership.
Times, they’ve changed. I don’t drink coffee much anymore because I can no longer drink the supercharged jet fuel that my father keeps on tap. The kind I did when I was married. But…I DO still wash the dishes. A lot of dishes. A lot of cups….A *LOT* of coffee mugs. His coffee mugs. So, this past weekend, something happened. And now I’m married to my dad…..😩
We go together like Gershwin and Urkel…Big Joe and I.