In the very beginning stages of my relationship with CP, not too long after I let him move into my apartment with me, I had to make a few small requests/suggestions/rules, whatever you want to call them.

1. No dirty, smelly car parts in the house! He thought he should be able to store his smelly car parts in the house and/or in the closet. No way. This isn’t a garage.
2. No dirty, smelly car engines in my closet! He seriously wanted to store an old car engine in my closet! As if he was doing me a favor by not putting it on the carpet in the living room, which was his first choice for storage.
3. If you leave dirt, grime, grease, hair and other gross shit on the soap bar, please wash it off! He really thought it was ridiculous that he should have to wash off the soap bar. He said he’d never heard of such a thing. BUT I shouldn’t have to wash my hands with someone else’s greasy, grimy yuck and it looks like shit.
4. When your alarm goes off playing music in the morning at 4am, please turn it OFF because I don’t have to get up until 7am! The alarm going off, playing music at 4am was fine but to leave it on was inconsiderate. I didn’t have to get up that early and I couldn’t sleep with music blaring mere feet away from my head!
5. Empty your pockets when you put your clothes in the laundry because I don’t do pockets! I had asked him to check his pockets before putting his clothes in the laundry. That is unless he wanted his wallet washed. It’s really not that hard.

None of the things I asked of him were that difficult and it was pretty much just a matter of common courtesy. I was pretty easy going back then and not too hard to live with. I was a people-pleaser and bent over backward for that man. The least he could do is to be considerate. Right? Was I being too harsh? Pffttt….

Ok, so this post is about the emptying of pockets. I had actually checked a couple of times before throwing his clothes in the washer and another time I just happened to feel the weight of something and it caught my attention. All saves. Each time, I reminded him that I don’t do pockets and he needs to remember to empty them.

One time, (it was the LAST freakin’ time) he didn’t empty his pockets and I didn’t check because… umm… well, I forgot to check. I didn’t think anything of it and I threw his clothes in the washer. Oops! Haha! His wallet was in one pocket and a couple receipts in another. Not to mention all the important things you might find in one’s wallet! It contained his driver’s license, cash, phone numbers, business cards, photos, social security card, membership cards, etc. There was shredded paper everywhere!

When he came home I told him. He was pissed. I reminded him, “I told you. I don’t do pockets!” He responded with something like, “I don’t know why you can’t check the damn pockets!” Seriously? I told him, “It’s simple. I’m not your mother and you’re an adult!”

His response to that was, “You are kinda like my mother. You cook for me, clean for me, do my laundry. You take care of me.” Are you freakin’ kidding me? I asked myself. Wow. I told him, “I am not your mother. You are responsible for your own shit. I didn’t move out of my parents’ home to have to be mommy to a grown ass man!”

He had to replace everything. Serves him right. He should have listened. He never left shit in his pockets again.