There is shizz in this house that clearly, NOBODY cares about but me.
A lot of it.
I wonder if I have the issue, because I’m all bent out of shape over the small stuff, and 3 people here couldn’t give a rat’s ass, or if THEY have the issues and I’m actually the Superior Being of Utmost Intelligence around here for caring that we don’t live in a condemned property.
Toilet Paper That Goes On The Roll
I consider myself pretty low maintenance when it comes to TP. I don’t CARE whether it rolls over or under the thingie. I really don’t.
I just want it ON the thingie, for God’s sake. I don’t want it balanced precariously on the edge of the thingie like Olga Korbut on the balance beam, threatening to teeter off one side and land in the toilet for me to pick out.
I don’t want it on the back of the toilet tank so that I have to reach around for it when I need a square to spare.
I don’t want it on THE FLOOR of The Poopier. Because, EW.
Everybody else here is clearly okay with all of these options and I’m an uptight beotch.
Gross Stuff Adhered To The Bottom of The Kitchen Sink
Call me demanding, but after enjoying a delicious meal, I’d prefer not to bop over to the kitchen sink and have it look like someone vomited in it 73 days ago.
I’d also prefer not to scrape said partially masticated-and-now-stuck-to-the-sink chunks off of said sink with my fingernail.
But if I don’t do that? It becomes too unsanitary for even more disgusting leftovers to be thrown into the sink. My family loves a clean sink to dirty up now and then.
The Stuff Sitting At The Bottom Of The Stairs That Needs To Go Upstairs
I pile little items that my family leaves on the main floor of our house on the bottom of our stairs. I stack them in neat piles. I assume that someone will see the items, say to themselves, “Oh, look, that’s my Yu-Gi-Oh card” or “I should really put my 135 library books in my room” and then have the initiative to do just that.
I assume wrong.
Dirty Socks on Coffee Tables Or Worse Yet, Kitchen Table
Laundry Next To The Laundry Basket Instead of In It
Why is the extra 1/1,000,000th of a second that it takes to put laundry IN the basket as opposed to layingonthefloorrightnexttothebasket too taxing on the human body?
The Garage Floor
The Garage = One Giant Garbage Can. When the stairs, area next to the laundry basket and kitchen sink are full, that is.
There is a veritable bunny trail of outdoor toys, those maddening plastic straw wrappers that come on juice boxes, bits of paper and trash, sand, pencils, craptastic 5 cent toys, snot rockets, and the occasional chocolate smear on my garage floor. There is no clear path to my car. It’s actually an American Ninja Warrior course, in case you’re interested.
I didn’t know this, but apparently Ross Kitchen Operating Rule #26 is in effect:
After you use a dishtowel to wipe up a spill of milk, raw meat juice, spaghetti sauce or random bodily fluid, FEEL FREE to continue to use said fetid dishtowel for a variety of other kitchen uses. There is NO reason to wash that dishtowel right away!!!
Hurdle At The Front Door
We all typically don’t wear shoes in our house, especially upstairs. My kids have been
brainwashed programmed taught to take their shoes off when entering the house.
They have become so well trained that shoes are now promptly deposited at the threshold of the front door, thereby creating a hurdle of massive (and often smelly) proportions. Getting through my front door is practically an Olympic event.
So tell me: are there things in your house that nobody cares about but you?