Men are universal

My husband has a problem with initiation. No, not THAT kind of initiation. He just can't seem to take responsibility for opening a new box, package, or whatever, of some general household product.

I can't tell you how many times I've gone to do something in the kitchen and found he hasn't replaced the paper towel roll. We have a roll of toothpaste that takes the force of God to get any toothpaste out, even though there is a new package sitting in the bathroom. He went a week using his old toothbrush, which needed to be replaced, before I managed to open the new package and throw his old one out.

We keep our baggies, aluminum foil, and saran wrap on top of the fridge. Since I can't see over the fridge, I always bring the box of whatever down to extract whatever item I need. I can't count how many times I have reached up for the baggie box only to pull it down and find it empty. The next time it happens I am going to bludgeon my husband with the empty box. He claims that since he can't see over our fridge either, that he just reaches up to grab a baggie and has no idea that the box is empty. No idea that the box is empty. Uh huh.

He doesn't fill the ice cube trays or put packages of Cokes or waters in the fridge when we run out of cold ones. He used to leave the toilet paper with just a couple of measley squares on it before he got tired of me screaming across the apartment at the top of my lungs that I needed toilet paper. Now he is pretty good about replacing the toilet paper. Not great, but better.

To his credit, however, he does do some things. He fetches my packages from the post office. He gives me back rubs when I need them. He comforts me when I am sad. He works hard every day to keep us fed and clothed. And he loves me. If only I could get him to replace the damn paper towels.