There's something about Phil

In the spirit of a blog I'm using this blank computer to screen not only to tell you about recent events but also to make room for some more clutter in my head by clearing out some of the old resentments.

Anyone who lives with someone knows that spending all that time together leads to a couple of niggles about the other person. I'm sure my obsession with candles is quite annoying. (previous comments include: 'Good grief, are we trying to contact the other side' and, casually in front of guests 'who are we sacrificing tonight?)  It's really not that bad, it lends atmosphere, and you don't need to put your heating on.

So I'm going to list the main things that really annoy me about Phil. Don't worry, I'm not going focus on the trivial. These will be real issues that, were I a weaker woman, could result in the downfalll of our marriage.

1.  THE WAY HE SNEEZES

I understand that some people have louder sneezes than others.  My cousin for example just squeaks, a tiny little mouses squeak, where as I'm a fairly standard, Achoo, Achoo kind of girl.

When Phil sneezes he can be heard in the next street!  Now you think that's an exaggeration, but it's actually a true story.  A few years back, in Morrison's we were talking to a woman who lived in the next street, the one that backs onto us.  Before you thinking I'm cheating and her garden backs onto ours. It doesn't.  We're talking about a good 10-12 houses away. Anyway, this woman, (who we had previously socialised with, no doubt in summer, when Phil's hay fever was playing him up causing him to sneeze).  Who we're talking to asks if Phil has had cold. When we looked puzzled she explained. She'd been hanging washing out and had heard Phil sneezing.  She'd heard him sneezing!  THE WOMAN WAS PRACTICALLY HALF A MILE AWAY. 

Not only that he doesn't always cover his mouth, he claims that sneezing creeps up on him so rapidly he is unable to move his hand the great distance to his mouth.  That coupled with the overly flamboyant WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHOOOOO is enough to make me want to smother him with a mansize kleenex.
 
Oh, and just for information he can sneeze quietly. When Syd was a baby and we'd just got him to sleep he'd sneezed quietly. I've also seen him control his ridiculous sneeze at a funeral. Which proves to be that he is only sneezing the way he is to get attention.


2. HIS UNNATURAL DISLIKE OF THE RAIN

I have a lot of hair. An awful lot of hair. When it gets wet in the rain it holds the water, similar to a sheep, however there is only so much water my hair can hold (I'd guess at 2 litres)  After 5 minutes in heavy rain, my hair collapses under the pressure which has the same effect as dumping a large bucket of water over my head. I'm literally drenched, water dripping off my nose, make up like Alice Cooper, basically disastrous.

Phil however has a number 1 all over his head, (I mean he has a number 1 haircut, not wee in his hair) which means very little hair. He also doesn't wear make up (a blessing really). And when we go anywhere he normally wears a waterproof jacket. I'm normally in a cardigan (which also holds the water, similar to the hair).

So based on the above information, you'd think, should it rain, it would be obvious who gets to use the umbrella. NOT SO!. Given that Joe plays football every Sunday from Aug to May, and we live in the North East we encounter a lot of rain, and heavy rain at that.  At the first sign of rain, Phil's waterproof is fastened up, and his heavy duty golf umbrella is up. He also sneakily moves away from people. This is because he doesn't want to share his umbrella.  I can literally be stood soaked from head to toe in a pool of water and Phil is panicking that his glasses might get wet.  Sometimes his jeans get wet from the knee down, which quite frankly a worry. What if he gets cold, it might bring about a bout of sneezing.......


3)  THE OVERUSE AND SHORTENING OF STRANGERS NAMES.

If we meet someone for example a personal banker who introduces herself as Lindsey, an estate agent called Steven or a shop assistant called Nigel within minutes of meeting them Phil slips into 'best mate syndrome', treating the person like he's been best friends with them since infant school.  'Good idea Linz',  'Lovely house Ste',  'Cheers Nige mate'. He thinks he's being friendly, however in reality, these people are frightened! This is a man they've literally met seconds earlier and he's carrying on like they're downing sabucca's on a stag do.
Example conversation with shop assistant in Comet.
Asst:  Can I help
Phil: (clocking name badge): I wonder if you can Beverley. We need a new hoover
Asst: Well, have you considered a dyson......etc etc
Phil:  Ok Beverly I'll just check with my wife.  Jools what Bev was saying......
Me:  *Cringes and hopes we can just leave*
Phil: So Bev what would you recommend.

At this point 'Bev' is looking at me, and looking like she's considering calling security. She no longer knows if we really want a hoover or if we're swingers and we're trying to pick her up. We leave before Phil starts calling her 'B' or 'Bev-laaaa' or 'the Bevster'.

Horrifying.

4)  HIS REFUSAL TO BLOW HIS NOSE.

OK, so this one is common sense
1)  Get cold
2)  Get blocked up nose
3) Realise you can't breathe properly through your nose.
4) Get a hanky and blow your nose.

However imagine if Step four looked like this.

4) Decide that blowing your nose doesn't 'sit right with you', you haven't done it since something (god knows what!) put you off as a child. Instead you decide to form torpedo's out of tissue and shove them up your nose.  Then you will breathe through your mouth, not caring that you sound like a walrus in a state of sexual excitement.  No matter how thick with snot your nostrils become you will not blow your nose. 

(No doubt Phil has got this cold from allowing his socks to dampen in a recent torrential downpour.  Hopefully  once the sneezing starts he'll clear some of the backlog.)

There are some more however thats all I can handle for now.......