Pet Peeves - Letter to my family

Pet Peeves. I could probably write for a day about pet peeves regarding just my family, without even touching on people in the outside world. I'll kind of write this as an open letter to my family.

I hate it when you leave the cabinet doors open, yet every time I come in the kitchen, at least two cabinet doors are standing open. What’s so hard about closing them? I don’t get it. Or is it like one of those episodes of The Haunting where a mischievous ghost goes through the house and just opens cabinet doors to scare the poor women who work in the kitchen?

Empty toilet paper rolls. Especially when there is a new roll of toilet paper sitting right on the shelf beside the commode. I have actually given lessons to everyone in my family and demonstrated removing the empty cardboard tube and putting a new, full roll on, and how easy it is to snap the little holder back into place. Maybe I need to re-teach this lesson, ‘cause evidently you didn’t get it the first time. I've even tested you and offered a prize to the one who can find the thing in the bathroom that's out of place and fix it. I have yet to give a prize away.

I can’t stand it when you come in from outside, and walk across the carpet, looking back to see if you’ve left dirty footprints. And then if you do leave footprints, you seem surprised. Well duh, you completely stepped over the two floor mats that were by the front door. And you also missed the mountain of shoes that the rest of us have pulled off and left by the door just so we’re certain we don’t track across the carpet. Or better yet, you say it's your brother's fault or your sister's fault or your dad's fault or the cats' fault. But I know better. I am the Mama.

There’s the whole bathroom seat up or down fight that I thankfully don’t have to deal with. This is the one lesson the boys in our family have learned. Put the seat down or you will have to deal with either one, two, or three irate bitches. You have enough trouble in your life without adding that on.

And one other thing. If you can manage to take your dirty plate and glass to the table, see if you can drag yourself another five steps and go ahead and load it in the dishwasher. I’m not even asking you to run it, just put your dirty things in there.

While we’re talking about dirty things…it’s kind of obvious when I’m doing laundry. I’m running back and forth to the pantry dozens of times. I’m hauling heavy laundry hampers around. You can hear the washer and dryer running. The house usually smells like Bounce and Tide. So why do you wait until it’s all done before you decide to bring the five loads that you’ve hoarded in your room and then say, “Hey Mom, I need these clean for tomorrow.” Well, darlin’, it’s time for another lesson in how to use the washer and dryer.

Is there some magical fairy that I don’t know about? You know, the one you expect to come every time you stuff empty potato chip bags or drink cans behind the couch? I assume you’re leaving these as treasures for the magical creatures, but you know what? I ain’t a magical creature, and despite the lovingkindness shown by you leaving these gifts, I’d really rather have jewelry, if it’s all the same to you.

The same thing goes for the empty tea pitcher. For some reason, you like to leave one inch of brown sludgy tea in the bottom of the pitcher and stick it back into the fridge. This one is mainly my son, just to make his sisters mad. I know your argument, “But there’s enough in there for one more glass.” I don’t care. If it gets that low, pour it in a glass, guzzle it down, and drop tea bags into a pot of water. If you’ll just do that much, someone else will come along and finish it. I promise you they will. And you won’t get fussed at in the process.

And why is it that you can’t pick up anything that doesn’t belong to you? I just need a little help keeping things in their places. I promise you, the baseball cleats weren’t mine. Neither was the Guitar Hero game. Neither was the clarinet. Or the hair straightener. None of that was mine, but at some point I’ve put them all away in your rooms. More than once. So it’s been scientifically proven that it will NOT harm you to put away things that belong to your siblings (or to your children, Johnny).

So there are some of my pet peeves. I have others, but I know if I keep talking, you'll just respond by saying that one of YOUR pet peeves is women who nag. I wouldn't want that, would I?