Taking the biscuit

Bert has many annoying habits - well, he is a man after all. I feel a need to share these (spreading the pain, remember). Of course, I am a perfect zone of annoying-habit-freeness myself. Apart from keeping this blog.

Biscuits. Bert can't just take a biscuit. He takes half a biscuit (as exact a break as he can manage). Sometimes he takes half of the remaining half, so that I find a neat quarter of biscuit in the pack. Not only is this annoying in and of itself, but my own sense of neatness makes me eat the half or quarter as well as the whole biscuit or two I went for in the first place. Or something like that.

Towels. When Bert's had a shower and washed his hair, he likes to carry a towel around to continue drying his hair. It doesn't matter how many times I politely mention the scrumpled wet towels lying around the bedroom, living room, kitchen, hallway etc., it simply has no effect. Of course they all smell musty by the time I find them so they have to be rewashed. And whatever was underneath them (bank letters, school reports, nice new silk cushion, you know the sort of thing) is now crinkled and damp too.

Drawers (as in chest of, not knickers). Why is he incapable of closing any drawer whatsoever? (But speaking of 'knicker' drawers, he likes to leave his flies open too. See Things My Boyfriend Says for a great explanation for this behaviour.)

Using every bit of horizontal surface as his paperwork office. Not letting me move said paperwork because otherwise he will forget to do things. Liking to put a strange object in the middle of the hall, because it is so strange he will notice it and then remember why he put it there (to remind him of some completely unrelated task).

Constantly losing things (especially keys), and then accusing others of moving/stealing/hiding them.

Incidentally, that last one reminds me of one of the most unpleasant rows we ever had. A few years ago when the girls were little, Bert was looking for his shoes to go to work. Over a few minutes he worked himself up into an absolute frenzy. Effing and blinding, despite the fact that I was helping him by looking everywhere. I was getting more and more wound up by his ungrateful attitude and when he eventually accused the girls of having put them somewhere I blew up. "Just f*ck off out of the house will you and don't bother coming back!" or similar. He did (f*ck off), and later in the day I got a sheepish email (and, I seem to remember, flowers). He'd left his stupid shoes at work.

Oh God, that's all I can bear for now.