A LITTLE DAB AT THE BOTTOM
If there is one thing I hate, it is to reach into the fridge for a container, open the lid and find… one tiny little dab at the bottom of the bowl. I HATE IT. I would rather someone toss that last bite in the trash instead of me thinking there was enough left in the container to eat.
It’s the same with drink containers. To me, leaving one swallow in the milk carton or grape juice carton is grounds for all out war. Why on earth does “someone who shall remain unnamed” bother to put it in the fridge?
Or wait! Even better – one little sliver of toilet paper on the roll. Not enough to use, oh no. It is that part that is pretty much glued to the roll and totally shredded when you’re mumbling and fussing and trying to get it off. Unfortunately, on that one, I’ve been guilty, too. So, maybe I’d better get back to the stuff I’ve not been guilty about.
You have your catsup bottle. Because there is catsup stuck on the bottle sides, it is deceptive. You don’t know it’s empty until you try to put some on the hamburger you just lovingly set up for it. Brrrrp. Nothing but air. Or that can of peanut butter – there is still some left on the sides and I could probably scrape some off the bottom, but oh my gosh. CAN’T WE JUST THROW IT AWAY?
This is the man who has NO trouble throwing everything else on earth away – even stuff I disagree with him about. I know where this trend developed from. And I know “HE” is going to blame me for this simply because when we were first married, I would be upset if he ate the last of something without telling me. So I think in his warped way of thinking, leaving me that last bite makes up for it. Huh? That is the same thing as in the first paragraph – you think there is something left to eat and you go reach for it and it is gone. If you offer me the last bite or tell me it’s the last bite, I wouldn’t be half as upset and set up for disappointment. Then I’d KNOW it was gone. I wouldn’t like it but I wouldn’t be surprised to find it gone either. Does anyone know what I mean??
And I know he denies that part of the dab in the bottom theory is so he won’t have to wash the container although I’m sure he’ll deny that, too. He’s so good at helping around the house, I can’t get upset. Drat.
So while I am so sure people can relate to this dab in the bottom syndrome, I can’t complain. Nope. I wish I could but this is a man who helps around the house. He vacuums. He can cook. He folds laundry. He works 10.5 hours a day for this family. He does the yard (when not paying the son to). He remodeled this entire house to make it beautiful just for me. Best of all, each year he makes me a huge flower garden just because the first year we were married, I told him I’d always wanted a big flower garden full of cutting flowers. Man, what can I say? I am blessed.
So there it is. We could go to war over those little dabs at the bottom of the jar. We could fight all night about the last swallow in the container. But – I can’t. He’s just too darn good to me in so many other ways. So, I guess I’ll have to let this quirk go!
