My husband left his shoes in the middle of the living room floor. I saw them last night-they are hard to miss. He's a tall guy and he wears big shoes. So, instead of tripping over them, I picked them up

My husband left his shoes in the middle of the living room floor.

I saw them last night — they’re hard to miss. He’s 6’4” and wears size 13s. These things look like canoes with laces. Honestly, I thought for a second we had a new coffee table.

So, instead of tripping over them and breaking a hip (which would only inconvenience me), I picked them up — not out of love or kindness, but because I had a plan.

I carried them to the fridge, opened the vegetable drawer, and placed them gently inside next to the limp celery and whatever’s left of that New Year’s salad resolution. Then I went to bed and waited.

This morning, I heard the usual thud-thud-thud of my husband stumbling around getting ready for work. Then silence. Then… the fridge door creaked open.

“Why… are my shoes in the crisper?” he called out.

I replied, “Oh! I just thought since you’re leaving them wherever you want, I’d put them somewhere I could easily find them next time.”

He blinked. “In the fridge?”

“Well, I figured it’s the one place you actually look in daily!”

He didn’t say a word — just slowly put on his shoes and walked out, one foot squishing slightly with the forgotten cucumber slice I had accidentally left in one.

And guess what? That was the last time his shoes were in the middle of the living room. Now they’re carefully lined up by the door like obedient little soldiers.

Marriage is about communication. Sometimes with words, sometimes with passive-aggressive vegetable placement.

Would you like one about what happened with his gym socks next? That’s a whole saga involving Ziploc bags and a misunderstanding with the neighbor’s cat.