I’m home with my wife. We’re both tidying up after dinner, and she’s humming an earworm.

Wife: “Hey, who sang ‘Hey, Hey, We’re The Monkees’?”

It’s a good thing we were too busy singing to put anybody down.

I’m chopping vegetables and setting out salmon and brown rice for dinner. My boyfriend leans against the counter, watching me cook. We’ve just recently visited his parents, and I’ve learned a lot about his family.

Boyfriend: “Are you on a health kick or something?”

Me: “No, we both are! Remember, your dad passed away so young from a heart attack. I don’t want that happening to you!”

Boyfriend: *Moaning.* “Yeah, but you don’t have to start feeding me this stuff until after I’ve had my first heart attack!”

My girlfriend is possibly the best-intentioned critic I have ever met. She is unafraid to highlight the bad points of… just about anything, but she’ll also highlight the good points just as vehemently.

This includes things that actively offend her, such as a homophobic employee who worked below her a couple of years ago. He came up with the MOST convenient way to sort her backroom, then discovered she was gay and immediately tried to get her fired as a manager. [Girlfriend] will not hesitate to point out that he’s an a**hole, but she also still uses his sorting method three years later because “it WORKS, and it works REALLY well, I’m not about to throw that away out of spite”.

One day, I come to pick her up at work and find her dealing with a customer who seems to be having trouble hearing the word “no”.

Girlfriend: “For the last time, I am not going to ignore our policy when you are two years past the return window.”

Customer: “Well, then, f*** you! And f*** the ugly b**** who bore you!”

Girlfriend: “Aaand now you’re banned. I won’t have anyone calling that b**** ugly.”

The customer seemed somewhat confused as he was escorted from the store by security, a sentiment I was inclined to share. Once she’d clocked out:

Me: “So… you WILL have people calling your mom a b****?”

Girlfriend: “Oh, yeah, you haven’t had the ‘pleasure’ yet. I’m on the other side of the country from her for a reason. Miserable bigots like that need to die alone. But, here, look.”

She shows me a picture of a grey-haired woman who nonetheless looks very fit.

Me: “Wow.”

Girlfriend: “Yeah, she takes REALLY good care of her body. And look at that silver! She won the f****** lottery when it comes to old age. Her beauty’s only skin deep, but I still want to LOOK like that when I’m as old as she is now.”

Me: “I mean, I don’t blame you, but…”

Girlfriend: “Oh, trust me, I know what you mean. I used to think that because she was a b****, everything that had anything to do with her was b****y. I literally stopped taking care of myself when I moved out, just because she was constantly telling me to eat healthy and stay active. But then one day, I had to look at myself in the mirror and ask myself, “Why do I WANT to be sick and weak and unpleasant to look at?”

Me: “That’s… you know what, that’s fair.”

Girlfriend: “Exactly. That was really the catalyst for me. Just because there’s SOMETHING bad, doesn’t mean that EVERYTHING is bad. It started with her, and now I take the same approach to anything. I don’t want to turn into the a**hole who looks down on something really good because of a single flaw.”

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We have a shiny new bathroom, and we’re looking for a floor squeegee. Since our around-the-corner stores don’t have one, my husband goes to a hardware store. It’s on his way home after work, so it’s no problem.

Except… that day turns out to be the worst traffic in ages. Long traffic jams, people going left and right without signalling… Completely frustrated, my husband gets to the store, enters the store, can’t find the floor squeegees, asks an employee (as nicely as he can, considering he knows he’s frustrated), and the employee brings him to the place where he looked three times already.

Completely done with it all, he grabs the first one he sees and heads to the cash register.

Cashier: “That’ll be 99,95 euros, please.”

My husband freezes. He didn’t check the price. His brain pretty much shuts down. All he can think of is to get out of there so… he pays and leaves.

When he comes home to his safe, silent place, he hesitates to tell me about the floor squeegee. Eventually, he does.

Me: “A hundred euros?! What is that thing made of, platinum?!”

Husband: “I’m so… so sorry. I didn’t know what else to do!”

Of course, there are plenty of other things he could have done, but you know, hindsight is 20-20, it’s easier to be a keyboard warrior and the likes. We are financially well off enough that such an amount does not bring us to ruin.

Me: “Well, what’s done is done. But it had better be the best floor squeegee ever!”

One year later… still the best floor squeegee ever! I did talk to my husband about what happened and what he could have done, but honestly… whenever people come to see the new bathroom (is that a Dutch thing?), we always gush about the floor squeegee. We’ll always find a way to ‘squeeze’ that into the conversation.

My boyfriend is one of those people who should be permanently banned from ever going near a phone. After years of terrible service, we are finally changing Internet providers. As part of this dreary ritual, you have to talk to one of their customer retention specialists who tries to hard sell you on remaining. I’m loosely listening in.

Boyfriend: “Hi, yeah, I would like to cancel our Internet service.”

Pause.

Boyfriend: “A-ha… yeah… nuh. Just want to cancel.”

Pause.

Boyfriend: “Yeah… hey… did you know Marilyn Monroe faked her own death?

Pause.

Boyfriend: “Yeah… she took that voodoo drug from hay-teeeeee, then changed her surname and came back as a dude. You know the one… Marilyn Manson… even sang that cover of one of her songs…”

Pause.

Boyfriend: “Yeah… man… yeah…” *Starts singing.* “Sweet dreams are made of this…”

Yes, I know Marilyn Monroe never sang this song.

Boyfriend: “Who am I to disagree? I travelled the world and the seven seas…”

Pause.

Boyfriend: “…everybody’s looking for something, some of them want to use you…

Pause.

Boyfriend: “…some of them want to be used by you…”

Pause.

Boyfriend: “…some of them want to abuse you…”

Pause.

Boyfriend: *Incredibly coyly.* “…some of them want to be ABUSED…”

Pause.

Boyfriend: “Ah, yes, as I said, I just wanted to cancel my Internet.

Pause.

Boyfriend: “My account number? Yes, it’s [Account number]. Is that it? Great, thanks, bye!

He was so d*** pleased with himself.