The Odd Couple

My husband is a slob,not a regular slob ,the latest version of extreme,radical,

over the top slob.If there were 'Special Olympics For Slobs', he'd bring home the gold. If there were Oscars for slobs, he'd bring home a 'Lifetime Achievement

Award'.Why would a person like myself, who thrives on tidiness,whose comfort zone is calm, tranquil neatnesss and order,choose to live in chaos? I did not.I was deceived.

While we were dating he lived with his Dutch friend, Walter, who was a good housekeeper.The Dutch people are known for that. He kept the place spic and span.There was never a cushion out of place.When I visited the apartment, I was favorably impressed. I assumed they shared the responsibility for the neatness.

Certainly when he visited my home, he was all that was helpful, including clearing the dinner dishes.Naturally when one is courting, one is on one's best behavior. A person wouldn't think to mention that he had an insignificant bad habit like throwing clothes and trash around until every surface is obliterated.

So, we married and for a short while things weren't too bad.He tried to help clean up,even though he did it badly.It was endearing.He did leave his clothes on the floor,but I thought that was the extent of it.As we began to relax with each other, I noticed a very odd thing.If he accidentally dropped something he didn't pick it up right away.I'd wait until I couldn't stand it a moment longer,then I would retrieve the object myself, only to have him say."I was going to pick that up in a minute."

Soon,he started leaving a mess in the bathroom in the morning. Towls thrown on the vanity or floor, toothpaste left uncapped, water everywhere and toiletries all over the counter. I agonized over whether, or not, to make an issue of it. Then crumbs and jam, coffee rings and dirty dishes became the decor in the kitchen and spread to the living room along with scattered newspapers shoes and coats. As my husband walked into a room things seemed to fall from him on to any available surface.

If he did a repair job on a tap or on the car or on anything else, he would leave the tools exactly where they fell and the silicone mess or the black grease.I found tools beside the driveway that had oxidized and rusted almost completely away. I diligently and, I thought, patiently picked up and cleaned up. but I guess my growing stress and discomfort began to show on my face.He asked me one day,what my problem was.

Those fateful words.If only he hadn't said them.I snapped.The top of my head blew off and I screeched at him with my considerable lung power,"My problem?MY PROBLEM?"I informed him that the only problem I had was him and he had a big problem and he had better do something about it, or I was going to leave him wallowing in his own filth(that was a little unfair because he kept himself immaculately clean)

The man looked baffled and confused.I enlightened him."You are a slob,a walking, talking, garbage dropping, chaos creating slob." I added "You have no respect for me if you expect me to follow you around like a servant,cleaning up after you." I then proceeded to bawl my eyes out.

He stood very calmly,looking puzzled,as he looked around the room and said,"It looks nice and neat in here."

"Give it a minute.You haven't been here long."

"I don't expect you to follow me around,cleaning up."he said.

"But if I didn't, we wouldn't have these nice neat rooms."

"So?"he said."Just relax.Don't bother.It's not that important."

I knew then,that I had a long term struggle ahead of me.There was no neutral meeting place,no compromise.There was no means of communication.He didn't get it.He didn't get me,and I didn't understand the workings of his mind.Logic was not an option.

We had a marriage that had everything going for it.Love, passion, mutual likes, mutual dislikes and the same goals.We had the same sense of humor,the same love of children and family.We had hit a bump in the seemingly smooth road.

This bump in the road became the bane of my life.As the years went by I realized he could not change very much.He tried,but he never understood what a sense of order meant to me.I always thought ,if your home was chaotic, your thoughts probably were too.He would begin to chafe under my nagging, lose his temper and call me a neat freak. So, I had to change.I had to accept a certain level of messiness.When it got to be more than I could bear,I would clean up without complaining.It made me more tolerant in many areas of life so I considered it a positive adjustment.

The marriage was well worth the trouble.It was wonderful ,satisfying and fulfilling and my husband continued to be a fantastic guy.Our kids had two examples before them( they called us Oscar and Felix, after 'The Odd Couple'). They could emulate the neat freak or the slob.Guess which one they

chose...