I have a few pet peeves. Really I think less than most people. But the ones I do have, I have strong. Some examples may be in order.
Don’t read over my shoulder. I have no idea why this riles me up, but it does. I know that it doesn’t help that I am a four finger typist and even that pathetic excuse of a skill vanished the moment someone watches me type. But that isn’t the whole thing. There is just something about someone observing me in that way that just puts my teeth on edge.
The way the toilet paper roll hangs. I am sorry if you don’t agree, but it goes over like a waterfall and never, ever, ever the other way around. This is a peeve that I keep to myself mostly. I feel no reason to try and convince others of my correctness in this matter, Molly has been doing it wrong her whole life and no matter how many spanking I give her I don’t think that she will ever change her ways. The kids can’t ever be bothered to get a new roll out so I can only imagine that they will remain ignorant of the whole procedure for many months after they have moved away. I just quietly and calmly put the world to right when it gets put wrong.
There is one thing though that really bakes my beans. And this is treating me disrespectfully. This is a tricky one at first glance because I have always said “Respect must be earned” and I stand by that. But there is a default level of respect that should be accorded to all people. You know what I mean, please, thank you, excuse me, these aren’t big things, but they matter. The one I am having cultural issues with right now is being interrupted. It drives me up a wall and yet seems to be the British default for conversation, they gleefully step all over one another while talking and I can’t find a way to get a word in edgewise. And if I do manage, I find that I am cutoff mid sentence.
Most of the time I manage to check my anger at this experience, but thankfully sometimes I don’t have to.
There is a swift answer to the problem if Molly does it, and this is a habit I will break.