in the precursor-to-moving-in-together stage of our relationship, the rev and i hammered out some details. these fell into the categories of chores (i do most, he is in charge of trash and bathrooms), preferences (keep the house cooler at night, conserve energy whenever possible, keep things neat and clean), and pet peeves (i.e. things to avoid at all costs to prevent break-up or possible murder). my list of pet peeves is long and always growing, but the rev boiled down his real, true pet peeves to only one: “Please, just never, ever leave milk in a glass or bowl anywhere, ever.”
like all of his weird idiosyncracies, this one has a background: apparently, as a shining blond youth, he went to take the last gulp of a cafeteria carton of milk only to wind up with a mouth full of goopy milk sludge. ever since, he cannot bring himself to drink the stuff. or, even worse, to watch me drink it, kiss me after i drink it, or bear witness to a small amount of milk residue abandoned in a glass.
so i dutifully rinse my glasses and cereal bowls, lest i find a horror-struck rev frozen in disgust on the sofa some night. of course, as anyone in any healthy relationship knows, i also often test my limits to see how long i can wait to rinse a glass before he throws up his hands in protest. but the best: wait until my milk gets almost warm (which to him is anything above 37 degrees) and then drink it in front of him. that always elicits a lot of dramatic dry heaving and gagging. ah, simple fun.