The Chronicles of a Nagging Wife

In an effort to embrace my inner nag, I think the first place to start is by admitting it. I am a nag. There I did it. "Clean the kitchen," I say. "Because I'm not there to goddamn do it myself,'" I say. "Because of 3 previous kitchens, I found a dead mouse carcass in one and used drug needles and spoons in another," I say. "The odds are against me, that's why." I say. "Tell them to find a dead mouse in a known plague area and be terrified, and then to go find a used needle when reaching to a blind spot in the cabinet and be freakin' thankful as hell they didn't prick themselves and catch some awful disease, and THEN talk to me about how ridiculous I am being'" I say. Stay tuned for future installments.

[Why do you want me to clean the kitchen?] [Why do you think the kitchen has to be clean?] [That's not how this house is, why can't you get over it?] [The neighbors think you're overreacting.]