I think my ex is a woman

This is something I've recently come to realize. See, I never understood my friends' frustrations over "men!", how they complained about how hard they were to understand, how they never understood women and generally were weird creatures from another planet. We had the same habits around the house, agreed where to put things and what sofas were nice, shared views on most major and minor issues and could go to IKEA without a major bust-up. It left me puzzled, though, when the passion died on us, but now I think I'm getting it. After having been with Spikey for about 14 months, I think I'm ready to join the club. Spikey is a man. He likes to cook, and does it a lot (I'm slowly becoming obsolete in that department), and he himself believes that he's great at cleaning up afterwards... Now, I don't want to moan, but it takes more than tossing the pans into the dishwaser and throwing out the potato skins. For instance, for some strange reason, after he cooks, the cupboards and walls need wiping, the fridge door and the fridge interior(!) as well. The floor needs sweeping and mopping. And the whole kitchen needs rearranging. I'll find the knives sticking up from the jar by the stove. And the ladles and whisker in the cutlery drawer (a friend of mine has a similar problem - her boyfriend just puts everything in the drawer. The same drawer. And when he proudly announces thad he's done the tidying up, she'll secretly spend more time tidying up after his tidying up than he spent tidying up in the first place). I find the shopping still in the bags in the fridge. I'm not even going to mention the size of our sofa! How a man of his modest size requires all that space to be comfortable is a mystery to me. But I suppose this is all part of having a man in the house. And the plusses far outweigh the minuses. After all, he is a master cook, the darling!