Every couple that I know has stories about how the “other” does all this random shit that annoys them to no end. Troy and I are no different.
<*>For some unknown reason, Troy ABSOLUTELY MUST “test” random items. Now by “test”, I mean he finds it necessary to physically assault it with his hand with a swift downward motion that instantly almost destroys it.
You are probably going, “huh?”.
Here is an example:
Troy enters the kitchen to notice a steak defrosting and marinating in a Ziploc bag on the countertop. He fancies around a bit looking for snacks, but his mind has been set. I lit a smoke and continue talking about my day. As soon as my attention is turned to something other than his face, WHACK!!. He has brought his hand down with such force upon this steak in the Ziploc bag that it has burst all over the countertop. Why? Ask him. Go on, ask him. He’s “testing it”. He has also proceeded to test a watermelon, resulting in it cracking right down the middle. A cantaloupe resulting in it being flattened on one side. A bag of sealed dog food which obviously resulted in the bag exploding kibbles and bits all over the kitchen. I have not the words for this phenomenon. But it is real. I promise you that.
Being In The Way
<*> Wherever I'm standing is where Troy needs to be standing, and vice versa. It doesn't matter where we are - the kitchen, the bathroom, Scotland - we each infuriatingly occupy the space where the other one wants to be, urgently. Over the years we've developed signals for this situation. Troy’s is to stand behind me and mutter under his breath. Mine is to shoulder-charge him out of the way.
<*> Ok. I don’t give a damn if once I have used the nail clippers whether they are put back open or closed. To me, it makes more sense to leave them in the open-clipper-ready-to-go mode so if a hangnail is about to rip open you can quickly address it an move on instead of fuddling with the damn things to open and so on. Troy accuses me of “doing this deliberately to annoy him”.
Size, Weight, and General Blemishes
<*> It’s not news that I am tall; freakishly tall at that. And it’s not news that Troy is a big man himself. The difference? I look at him and see Troy. Sometimes I notice a little weight gain or a little zit or something, but for the most part, I do not notice because I adore him regardless. He, on the other hand, likes to tell me (in a joking manner) pointing such things out… which makes me want to strangle him with a wire coat hanger. Some examples:
Troy: ::finger directly in my face:: Whoa! You know you have a zit right there?
Me: Yes. I am aware.
Troy: ::hands cupped around his pectorals:: What happened?
Me: Excuse me?
Troy: What happened? That first night we met your boobs were so big. What happened?
Me: I lost weight. And unfortunately that is one of the first places I lose it from.
Troy: Well, put it back on then!
Me: I hate you.
Troy: ::while gripping my love handles:: Oh, what’s this? Puttin’ it back on I see!
Me: What the hell, Troy! Stop it!
Troy: ::attempting to again grab my sides to wiggle them::
Me: STOP IT!! And you’re one to talk!! Look at your belly!!
Troy: Yeah, but mine’s gradual.
That is not made up. He said it. I just looked at him in disbelief.