Pet Peeves. Most people have them; some more than others. Pet peeves are described as (per wiki) a minor annoyance an individual identifies as particularly annoying to him or her, to a greater degree than others may find it. I have quite a few pet peeves, some of which….has turned into ginormous pull-my-hair out go off the deep end peeves. Those that know me, know I have a temper and it doesn’t take much to set it off. Some of my pet peeves are:
- interrupting others–oh, I can’t STAND it when I am interrupted….and it happens frequently by either my husband (yeah him) and my daughter, Faith. Sometimes I get really upset when I’m interrupted. I’m all like “excuse me, I am talking!” Well…more like screaming it….I’m not perfect.
- missing a spot when one is mowing. My dad used to get me up at the butt-crack of dawn every Saturday during the Spring and Summer months so that I can mow our 500 acre yard (yeah it wasn’t really that big, but I thought so…it was less than an acre). And he would inspect my work. If I missed a spot, I had to go back over it. So, because of that, I can’t stand to watch my husband or kids mow. I’m always nitpicking about how they missed that lone blade of grass at the edge of the yard and how they need to go back over it. I’ve become somewhat anal about it. But sometimes…I just go and pick the blade myself. See? I can be a nice mommy, too!
- not getting dishes clean enough. I blame my lovely mother for this one. Hand washing dishes was another wonderful chore I had to do when I was a kid. Every evening after dinner, I had to scrape and rinse the dirty dishes (that had been piling up all day, I might add), wash out the sink, then hand wash dishes, and when that was finished, I had to wipe down the counters, stove and table. I hated that chore so much (and still do) that as soon as I was old enough to get a job, I started paying my mother…yes, my MOTHER, to do my chore for me. She wasn’t going to turn down the $10 or $20 that I was willing to pay her to do it. Smart woman. To this day, it is still my most hated household chore (especially since I have to hand wash again…ick). Now it is my children’s job to wash the dishes…they are old enough at 10 and 14, so they take turns. I find myself doing exactly what my mother would do to me…inspect the dishes (especially the pots and pans), running my finger around them to make sure no particles of food or grease are still on them. If I find it, well, they have to wash them over again. Bad mommy again! I also have to do dishes a certain way, and have them done a certain way, but that’s more of an OCD post. Actually, the this pet peeve and the one above would also qualify for an OCD post.
- Texting at the dinner table and texting when I’m trying to talk to you. My step-son, Evan, is really bad about this….in fact, he is the one that turned this into a pet peeve. You can’t have a conversation with him without him having a phone in his hand, texting away! Whenever I see him, he always has his head down, looking at his phone….I think he must be the fastest texter in the nation. But he never stops. I’m not sure what he would do if he didn’t have a cell phone…I really don’t think he would survive. I heard he ran into a pole once (maybe more?) because he was too busy texting to see where he was going. And what’s really bad is my husband is getting bad about the texting too. God help me.
- Washing machine left open. My husband is really bad about this, and I totally understand why he does it (to let it dry out), but I can’t stand to see that lid open. I guess this is an OCD qualifier too.
- All the lights on in the house. Faith does this All.THE.TIME. Every room she enters, she turns the light on, whether she needs to or not. And then leaves it on after leaving the room. I wake up one morning at 6am to get the kids up and ready for school…and our house was lit up like a Christmas tree! I continue to work at trying to break her of that habit.
I’m sure if I sat and thought about it some more, I could come up with several more pet peeves. These are the biggies though. Some of these makes me want to pull my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs. What is YOUR pet peeve?