My Wife Supports Me and I Hate It

This morning, after I saw my wife’s pajamas on the bathroom floor, I kicked them just far enough behind the door so that she would have trouble finding them tonight when she got ready for bed. I would like to say that I thought twice before my deceptive act, but I don’t think I did.

Later in the morning, I noticed that Vicky had left her hat on the ground in our entryway, and instead of picking it up and placing it in the closet, I kicked it farther out into the middle of the floor. I didn’t think twice about my decision in this instance, either.

I’ve developed a pattern of shady behavior, focused on deviously hiding Vicky’s belongings, since we moved to Switzerland a month ago. When Vicky left a sock on the couch after a night of binge-watching Netflix last week, I didn’t put the sock in the laundry bin but actually snuck it behind the blanket on the couch so that she wouldn’t be able to find it. And when she left her slippers under the coffee table this past weekend, I found myself trying to push one of them behind the leg of the coffee table and under the ottoman so that she would have trouble finding it the next night.

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While I am trying to irritate Vicky with my scheming, the only one I seem to be hurting is myself. The…