A Bee in Your Bonnet

I often joke that my dear husband is Mr. 80 Percent when it comes to household stuff like cleaning and picking up, he gets things close, but not quite there.  For instance, I fold the laundry and bring it upstairs.  And then it's his to deal with.  So it may make it to the top of his dresser or on the floor next to it.  But not quite in in.  He does a great job fixing stuff for the house and kids.  But the tools?  Well, they usually make it to the top of the stairs to the basement.  Or maybe to just inside the doorway to his work room.  This generally applies to most things that need to be put away.

But then there is what I refer to as Mr. Bee in Your Bonnet.  You see, sometimes something just gets under Brian's skin.  And eats away at him and drives him nuts.  And it builds up over time and then he just has to attack it.  Regardless of the moment.

Sunday morning was the perfect example of this.  He headed into the kitchen to make pancakes for breakfast.  The next thing I know, I am hearing him complaining our how horrible our dishwasher is (and by that, I mean a machine, which is a crummy dishwasher, and not me).  It leaves a nasty, crunchy, scummy residue on everything we put in there.  Yuck. And then I head him really complaining about it.  And then I hear some banging and crashing and come in to find this.

The pancakes had to wait.  The dishwasher, evidently, absolutely had to come apart right then.  And not just the racks.  Oh no.  He took out the rubber ring thing, too.  And the soap dispenser.  And some clips that, well, kind of broke in the process.  Any anything else he could get out of there.  He then scrubbed the entire thing down.

And took it all apart, and cleaned it, and put it back together.  100% back together (well, other than those mystery clips that he broke but didn't know what purpose they served, anyway).  And then he started in on the pancakes.

So while Mr. 80 Percent might be who I live with 90 percent of the time.  Mr. Bee in Your Bonnet coming out the other 10% of the time is really helpful.  Cause while I certainly complain about the horrible dishwasher my fair share, too, I am 90% Maintenance girl, and only about 10% Miscellaneous Projects girl.

Oh yeah.  And the dishwasher?  Still horrible.  I unloaded a load of scummy dishes this morning.  But you can't say he didn't try.