Now, it's funny...last night, not so much.
So I'm rinsing dishes and putting them into the dishwasher. Bob comes up behind me and peeks into the dishwasher and shakes his head.
"What?" I said. "Are you inspecting my work?"
"No, there's just food all over those dishes," he said. "And I'm not going to fix the dishwasher again when it breaks from getting clogged up."
"I rinsed EVERYTHING in there! There's no chunks of food!" I said, totally and completely calmly.
"Uh, yeah there is," Bob said.
"Well FINE! If you're going to be checking up on my work, and criticizing the way I rinse dishes, you can DO THEM YOURSELF!" I said, and threw the dish brush into the sink and huffed away.
"Fine I will!" he said.
"Great! I hate doing dishes anyway!" I said. "It's not like I get an allowance for it and you need to be checking up on whether I did it or not! Gah!"
Then he proceeded to take out EVERY single dish, glass, cup, spoon, fork and knife and RE-rinse them and RE-load the dishwasher and run it.
See, this is the dark underbelly of having the man around the house suddenly decide he likes to clean. It's all fine and good, until he starts white-gloving everything I clean. Grr.