What every guy needs to know, is that living with your partner is not all fun and games that you expect it to be when you first move in. It’s harder than it looks having your own place and learning to live with your partner. It is a well known fact that you never really know someone properly until you live with them. It’s also known that you have no idea how shit you are at being an adult until you move out.
Cooking is a huge part of moving out, because if you don’t cook you don’t eat. Or in my case, you cook and burn everything in sight. It’s a talent that not many possess. Trying to cook breakfast is always a fun time for me. I still haven’t mastered cooking bacon without it coming out looking like a crispy piece of cardboard.
When I first moved in, I was unfamiliar with using an electric oven. I had always used a gas oven. Being a gentleman that I am, I offered to cook for my partner. I put some mince into a pan and turned on the oven, this is easy enough to work I thought! Little did I know that this oven had hob covers on it, which seemed to be blended into the top. Being the cooking novice that I was, decided to cook the mince through the hob cover, and was baffled as to why it was taking so long to cook, and why there was a smell of burning metal coming from the food. I didn’t realise that cooked mince had the aroma of burning steel. It was safe to say that the cover was destroyed, as it now looked like I’d thrown it onto a bonfire.
I’m glad to say that my cooking has improved since this incident, and I’ve certainly learnt that hob covers should be removed before attempting to cook on them. I don’t think I’ll ever be at the level of Gordon Ramsey, but hopefully I can get to a point where I can cook edible food that doesn’t make my partner’s stomach turn.
Keeping your home secure is something that you would think would become second nature. Before you go out, you go round and check everything is turned off and make sure all windows and doors are locked. It’s just common sense isn’t it? Considering that I live in a ground floor apartment, this was even more important. One day I decided that I would open the window in the living room, mainly because I’d burnt something in the kitchen again (shock!).
After about 5 minutes, I’d already forgotten that the window was open and walked straight out the door and got into my car and drove off. I mean, I did lock up the front door, I’m not a complete failure! I did however leave the window wide open on the ground floor. Not a clever idea! I think if a burglar had of hopped in through the open window they would have been rather disappointed. There isn’t much to steal in our place, they could have taken the ironing board or the hoover but then that would have done me a favour. I imagine they would have just raided the fridge, helped themselves to a can and then left again.
I got in trouble when I got home this particular day. My partner had come home first and noticed that the window was wide open. She was not happy in the slightest. I was sent a text message telling me off for being careless. Oops! This was something that I had to live with for a few months until my partner did the same thing. I gave her a look that suggested..”How could you be so careless as to leave the window open? Who even does that?!” Obviously I did this in a sarcastic way, I wasn’t going to get myself in trouble again!
The chores are without doubt the biggest ball-ache known to man! It’s expected when you move out that there will be a few jobs to do around the house, like hoovering and doing the dishes, but nobody prepares you for the time and effort you will spend scrubbing toilets and changing dirty bins, just to name a few. These jobs aren’t pleasant, but it’s all part of being an adult. Being an adult sucks! As I have an extra day off from work every week, I’m often left with a list of jobs to do around the house. The list is usually the same, hoover all the rooms, dust everywhere, change the bins, clean the bathroom.
Another thing that is always the same, my jobs are assessed when my partner gets home. I feel like I’m on a new TV show called ‘How Clean Is Your House?’ where a judge walks round and insults my cleaning skills. I will admit, I do often make a mess of certain jobs, but that’s in my DNA as a guy. We do things wrong and fail to follow instructions, it’s just what we do. Still baffles me that women expect us to do things right even after doing things wrong our whole lives. Lower your expectations ladies! We are useless!
My partner’s favourite job of mine to check is the dusting. Before I begin, I am under strict instructions that items are to be moved and dusted, and not just to dust around them. Even though I was given clear instructions, did I do it correctly? Did I hell! I tried my best, I dusted every single item to the best of my ability, which is pretty poor I admit.
My partner walked into the room after I had finished, picked up the first picture frame that she could get her hands on and wiped off a huge line of dust with her finger. Yeah think I missed a bit! It doesn’t matter how good of a job you do, it will never be good enough. This is something that I have learnt over time, so I just accept it and wait for the onslaught. I’ll also add that when I dusted the picture frames (badly) and put them back, I had put them back in the wrong order, and so they were re-arranged again by my partner. It makes me think, why do I even bother being helpful and doing jobs when they are just going to be corrected anyway?
Another job that I was given was changing the bed sheets. I will say before I go any further that my pregnant girlfriend had suffered a small nose bleed in the night, and the bed cover was slightly stained. At half 7 in the morning just before she left for work, and I was half asleep (also key to the story) she asked me to change the sheets because of the stain. With only one eye open and thought of going back to sleep in mind, I assured her that I would change them when I got up. I eventually got up and found a clean quilt cover, took off the dirty one and put on the clean one. Job well done I thought!
Time to sit back, relax, and wait for my partner to get home and admire my manliness of changing the cover all by myself. I was clearly kidding myself. She walked in, took one look and just gave me a look that suggested…’what a silly boy you are’. I had only changed the quilt cover, meaning that the sheets and the pillow cases did not match (like that’s important), and to top it all off, the quilt cover that I had put on was inside out. This was the moment in my life that I realised that I have not mastered being an adult in the slightest, and that the insults that I get are probably well deserved.
Sharing a bathroom with a girl is not an easy task. Now you would think that the worst part would be that she takes ages in there getting ready, but I don’t even have that problem, she gets ready in the bedroom. My issue is that my partner and I have not quite reached the level in our relationship where we can happily piss and take a dump in front of each other. The fact that we have no lock on the bathroom door makes that ten times worse! I’m in constant fear that she will walk in one time and I’ll be sat on the toilet taking a shit and be like…”Hey! Don’t mind me…just taking a shit if you don’t mind waiting outside”.
Sharing a bathroom with a girl also means that you have to tidy up after yourself when you’ve finished. The days of pissing all over the toilet seat and leaving skid marks down the side are over. Although there have been times when our toilet has not quite had the required flushing power, and I’ve unintentionally left my partner a little floating present in the bowl. Absolutely mortifying!!
When you first move out with your partner, there are important phone calls that you have to make. Setting up bills, TV licence, council tax and all the other boring things you have to worry about when you are an adult. I was given the job of setting up Sky TV and broadband. It was me who was desperate for the football and the WIFI. All that I needed to do was ring up a number and ask to set up an account with Sky, it wasn’t a difficult task, yet I still managed to balls it up. Instead of setting up an account with Sky, I ended up speaking to someone from a completely different company who persuaded me to set up a dodgy account that cost next to nothing. This price was very low, seemed a little too good to be true.
After I’d finished on the phone I realised that it was too good to be true. I’ve no idea what I’d done, but I had to ring them back up and cancel whatever I’d set up. Cost me £30 to cancel my account, I hadn’t even been sent anything!! After that, I was forced to make any important phone calls in the same room as my partner, so that I don’t set anything up that I shouldn’t. I can’t be trusted with anything!
Men and women have different opinions on tidiness. What looks tidy to me, looks like a dump to my partner. The amount of cleaning that goes on in our house, it feels like we’re constantly preparing for a visit from the queen. We are quite tidy people anyway, so in my eyes, the place looks fine just the way it is. Obviously it needs a tidy up every so often, I’m no scruff!
One of my partner’s pet hates is when the cushions on the sofa are not perfectly straight. They must go in a certain order, and be propped up so that they look nice. Of course as soon as I walk in the room, I cannonball onto the chair and the pillows go flying everywhere. I once found it hilarious to watch my partner tidy up the pillows (I swear she got a ruler out and started measuring the distance between each one) and then I walked over and just flicked a pillow over. Obviously I ran for my life after I did it. I wasn’t going to hang around to get a punch in the face.
Trying to decide who gets control of the TV remote has got to be the biggest killer for relationships in the world. It’s very rare for two people to fall in love, and enjoy watching the same TV programmes. I’m forever making my partner watch football at the weekends. I once announced to her that there was going to be 5 matches on in a row on a Sunday. She worked that out to be about 9 hours worth of football, and told me to get stuffed! Bit rude I thought, but I was granted permission to choose 2 matches to watch. How very kind of her! To gain control of the TV, I usually have to have some brownie points saved up from doing good deeds. The conversation usually starts like this…
“You know because I ran you a bath last night, can I watch the football?”
Or… “You know because I did a really good job of cleaning the bathroom, can I put the football on?”
When my partner has control of the TV remote, I can guarantee that the quiz shows will be on. She makes me sit through them. Then she gets annoyed when I don’t join in trying to answer the questions with her. I get every question wrong anyway and she has a habit of guessing the right answer every time (which drives me mad!) Especially when I get the smug look of achievement on her face.
“Are you impressed that I’m getting all these answers right?”
“No…I’m impressed with your ability to guess the right answer from a choice of 3!”
I’d love to hear about any similar stories you have about living with your partners. Surely it’s not just me that suffers! Leave your stories or comments in the comment section below. I need some reassurance that I’m not the only one with these problems!