Every now and then my partner likes to stir things up in our house. He's wicked like that. For example, whenever I fly out of the country for work, he'll go around all the bedrooms and put mismatching linen on the beds. Orange with purple. Pink with green. That sort of thing.
Then he'll mix the bath towels up. He'll find some old plum number and hang it crookedly next to a navy blue.
Once he's done that, he'll put two clashing tea towels next to each other. Stripes with bold check. Orange with pale blue. Sometimes I don't even know if they're tea towels or old rags he finds in the back of his four wheel drive.
You can't imagine the angst this causes me.
The other day I did a little Christmas display in the hall. It was beautifully colour coordinated. Beautifully. Five minutes after I took this photo and walked away he slipped into the room and stuck two gifts on the pile that were wrapped in the loudest paper you've ever seen. Truly. They were so loud they burned my retinas.
Men. You can't live with them, and you sure can't make them to adhere to the Decorations Regulations.
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