We’re pretty polite to one another. I thank him for taking out the trash, doing the dishes, killing a palmeto bug, whatever. He does something that directly benefits me and he gets thanked and told how appreciated he is. It’s an important part of a healthy relationship, I think.

Of course, being the great guy he is, he thanks me as well. So last night after I did the dishes for the first time in about a week thanks to finals and general malaise, he thanked me.

“Thanks for doing the dishes, honey.”

“Aww, you’re welcome. I love my man and do what I can around here.”

And then, after very brief contemplation I added, “Well, ok, wait. I don’t do everything I can. Really, I just do what I need to in order to keep you from yelling at me.”

The best part? He rarely knows if I’m joking or not. God, I love messing with his head

---

Is anyone else a fan of the movie Creepshow? I mean the first one, not the second one. I first saw it when I was about 11 over at a friends house. The vignette about the germophobe creeped me out so badly that when my bare foot brushed a pen cap lying in the floor during the scene where the germophobe is trapped with all the roaches I screamed my freaking head off.The huge one is a palmetto bug, also known as an American Cockroach. As it gets cooler at night the palmetto bugs come inside the house to get warm. I’ve killed 3 this week, Jat’s killed 1. I HATE palmetto bugs. I am squeamish about very few things, but giant roaches top that list, hands down.So yesterday when he opened the dishwasher to get a plate the exclamation of “Shit!” from him was unexpected at best. Turns out a palmetto bug slithered its way into our dishwasher full of just washed dishes. Dammit.

Me? I don’t fuck around with shoes or paper towels or any of that shit. No, I use wasp and hornet killer. It’s got this awesome 20+ft stream that shoots out at approximately the speed of light. It kills those fuckers in a matter of minutes whether I hit them directly or not. I will happily and peacefully collect millipedes, spiders, crickets, lizards, etc and take them outside and release them. Roaches, especially the ridiculously large flying variety, get no mercy from me. Come in this house and fucking die. Don’t think I won’t find you either, I have a shitton of cats around here and when 2 or more of them are clustered around, tails swishing, staring intently at a spot on the floor, there’s a pretty good chance it’s because they’ve found something living and moving. Sometimes it’s a lizard, sometimes a chipmunk and sometimes a snake. But at night, at night I know it’s a fucking roach.

So my husband gets the flyswatter because he is a shoe/flyswatter/paper towel kind of guy. He misses and that oily fucker goes scurrying under the fridge.

“MotherFUCK! it went under the fridge. Shit. I guess it got away.”

The hell?

“Uh, no. No it did not get away. WHERE’S MY SPRAY?”

I grab the can, shove the nozzle under the fridge and proceed to spray any living critters under there all to hell and back.

“There. That’ll fuck him up good.”

My husband ran the dishes again. Good man, good man.

I can’t wait for winter.

---

Holy crap, go check this out.  It’s really neat!  I think we can all compare results too, but I’ve only just started so I’m not sure.