The Right Way

A new secret friend of mine was telling me this week how she’d hung something up in her wardrobe, but then had to go back and turn it around so it was facing the ‘right’ way.

She couldn’t quite bring herself to just walk away.

I totally related to this, and observed that she would’ve had to actually remove the item from the hanger, turn it around, reattach it, then rehang it.  Otherwise, the hanger would have hooked over the rail the wrong way.

Towels must be folded the right way: in half, then half again, then the other way in thirds, but with the edges on the inside of the folds. 

I’m fortunate enough to have a man who does the laundry, but unfortunate enough to have a man who can’t fold towels. 

MM* starts by folding them long ways.  I know! 

I sit on my hands and say nothing until he’s finished, then when he leaves the room I quickly refold them all the right way. 

And stack them by size.  

In separate piles for each colour group.

The drinks in the fridge door have to be in the right order.  Coke, then juice, then milk.

The end of the toilet paper must always sit away from the wall, not against it.  This is not negotiable, and applies to every toilet I use, even when visiting.  MM is of the opposite opinion, and in the seven years we’ve been together we’ve been waging a silent bathroom war.  We both turn the toilet roll around the ‘right’ way every time. 

Before I eat M&Ms/Pebbles/Smarties, they need to be sorted by colour.  Then I eat all the stragglers so that each colour group has an even number in it.  Then I determine which colour group has the least number, and eat enough from all of the other colour groups so that there’s the same number left in each group.  Then I eat from my least favourite colour to my most favourite.  In twos.

Hmm, did I just go a bit too far there?

*My Man