peeking through the cupboard doors

It's been nearly eight months (four of which Scott has been away). In many ways, it was as if we were married before we actually held the ceremony. We had been togather for six and a ahlf years by then. In many other ways we are still finding those little annoying habits that the other one kept hidden all that time or never had opportunity to present. A case in point. Scott has a really anal obsession with having the cupboard doors closed. The cupboard doors in our apartment are old. They do not close tightly easily. So I often do not bother to close them all the way. It is now driving him so crazy that any time I inadvertently forget to close a cupboard door he thinks I am doing it to provoke him...like I have time to think of that! And Scott snores. I've been sleeping alone over the four months he was gone. When he returned we both had adjustments to make in the sleeping area. (he was used to the rolling of a ship rocking him to sleep each night...stable quarters made for sleepless nights). I became so frustrated with A) the fact that he had been able to fall asleep and I was still struggling with insomnia and B) that he was snoring, adding to my sleeplessness, that one night, in an attempt to rouse him from his deep sleep in order to stop the racket, I kicked him in the shin, not lightly. He rolled over and stopped snoring...the plan had worked! But I felt so guilty I didn't immediately sleep as I had anticipated. I confessed my sins to my husband in the morning, who feigned deep hurt by threatening to put me up on charges of abuse for his sore shins. I realized I had not hurt him so badly later that day when he spent the afternoon playing baseball with his nieces and nephews at the beach. So much for sore shins.
I guess marriage is all about the closed doors and bruised shins. If everything was perfect, how would you know the difference between a good day and a bad one? The joy of a perfectly cooked dinner (chicken, rice, and all) is only made sweeter by the burned blueberry grunt for dessert. The six o clock alarm clock makes sleeping in until nine a delightful indulgence. It's all a matter of comparison. You just need to choose your starting off point. You could compare your mediocre housekeeping with the spotless house of your childless mother-in-law or to the cluttered home of your mother, who happenes to raising five foster children. Making a wise choise on where to begin can adjust your entire attitude.