After washing his clothes, every one of his socks has a match with no leftover or missing socks.
When we moved into our new home, the dryer door needed to be changed to open from the left instead of the right. My husband went to his files, found the folder titled “Appliances,” found the information on the dryer which we received when we purchased it four years earlier and followed the instructions to change the dryer door. It took him 15 minutes to do this.
He spends 30 minutes every morning ironing his clothes. I take 2 minutes, tops. I hate it when he gets to the ironing board before me. (Really, all I am looking for is validation that an effort was made).
He absolutely refused to call Triple A when I backed up my mini-van into the flower garden in our front yard and couldn’t get it out by myself.
He doesn’t understand how I organize songs on my IPOD. He told me that I simply could not put an Eric Clapton song in a folder titled “Disco.” We had a major argument over this.
One year he bought me a lovely cacti garden for a gift. I took it to work and set it on my desk. Two years later when he came to my office, he became quite upset to discover my cacti garden was now one cactus that was looking quite sickly. He immediately removed it from my possession and brought it back to life. Never again has he ever bought me a plant.
After struggling to potty train our three year old daughter for months, I went on a business trip for a week. When I returned, he had our daughter completely potty trained. He told her that unless she used the big girl bathroom, all her Barney toys were going away. And he put them all in a box in the garage until she proved she was potty trained. And it worked. In two days.
Before having children, I was offended when he said he planned on raising kids just like he raised his Golden Retriever, Star. In hindsight, I really should have listened to him.
He asked me how many miles I got to a gallon of gas. And expected me to have an answer. It took me 5 years to learn the make, model and year of my mini-van.
I will never, ever, in a million years bet “Slave for a Day” with him again.