I'm getting my dining room ready for Christmas, just put out my nice table cloth and mats. Set the table and added a cute center piece. My husband doesn't seem to care that at 37+5, limping around in pain, I'm trying to get the house ready for the holidays. He keeps putting shit on my fucking table! He just waltz over and laid a bunch of papers on top of his place setting. I told him to move the shit and he drags it out off, with the table cloth along with it. I caught it just before everything starting sliding to the ground. I adjusted things, straightened back the cloth and he goes, "why are you trying to get it perfect, you have kids in the house, it'll look like shit tmrw". My response, why do you wipe your ass after using the toilet, when you're only gonna shit again? like kids are suppose to stop me from keeping a decent home. He's down in his office, vigorously cleaning, shredding old mail and shit but can't respect that I'm taking care of my side of things. The last straw was me walking out of the kitchen to find the dog bowl with dog food, sitting near my center piece. I just got up and walked away. My OCD will only cause my anxiety to act up so I'm gonna listen to music and scroll through Glow. I'm done trying to do shit, let him do it alone. I'm starting to think he's tryna sabotage Christmas because his family isn't coming over this year but mine is.