digsite

For the first half our of relationship so far I had been the one to nag nag nag about keeping our apartment (now house) clean, dishes off the furniture, laundry off the floors, and so on, while my husband was a super rather-be-gaming-till-dawn lazy ass. I don’t know how I didn’t throw him out before talk of getting married started. I must have been in love or something.

Having my younger brother move in with us after our first year living together didn’t help either. He was another one who thought dirty plates magically teleported themselves into the dishwasher. I bitched and clean up after them and bitched and cleaned some more. It was a great big battle the whole time.

Well my brother moved out after only a year and a half but my husband continued on with his bad habits.

How did I deal? Well, if you can’t beat’em, join’em. That’s right. For the last 2-3 years or so I have been studying his skills very closely and, slowly but surely, turning into one hell of a slob myself. I leave my dirty laundry on our bed, regularly sleep on top of said dirty clothes. I only sweep and mop when guests threaten to come over, I only do dishes when no clean ones are left, I run out of clean clothes on a regular basis. I could go on but lets not.

I knew that eventually something (or someone) was going to give ..and it wasn’t me!!

Three days ago Dennis’ head imploded. “ROOOOAAARR!!! PANT PANT PANT. THAT’S IT!!! I’M JUST GOING TO CLEAN THE HOUSE MYSELF AND WHEN I COME HOME AND FIND SOMETHING OUT OF PLACE I’M GOING TO WAKE YOU UP AND MAKE YOU CLEAN IIIITTT!!!” then he took off on a cleaning frenzy while i sat back and watched in amazement.

Here he is, my slob of a man telling me that he’s tired of the mess. Oh I’m good.