Every time my husband has friends over, I feel such an intense emotional connection with Dan.
My husband’s friends arrive around 7 pm. They all sit down to play a board game in the dining room. I go about my business doing other stuff. Writing fic upstairs or watching YouTube or doing laundry or whatever.
At some point, I walk into the kitchen. I close all the cabinets. I get what I came for and go back out to continue with whatever else I was doing.
Maybe 15 minutes later, I walk back into the kitchen. I close all the cabinets. I get what I came for and go back out to continue with whatever else I was doing.
Half an hour later, I walk back into the kitchen. I scream silently to myself, “Were these men all raised in a barn? A barn with an eternally open door? Do they actually know HOW to close a cabinet? Do they really need to open ALL the cabinets? Are the cabinets in their own kitchens just always open? How do open cabinet doors not offend their aesthetic sensibilities????”
I then close all the cabinets. And I get what I came for then go back out to continue with whatever I was doing.
My husband has these same friends over every Thursday evening.
I’ve learned to avoid going into the kitchen on Thursday evenings until after they’ve all left—that way I only have to close all the kitchen cabinets once.
But I think that’s why Dan cares about closing the cabinet doors and Phil doesn’t: it’s about aesthetics. Open cabinet doors just look messy, and closed ones look tidy. Phil doesn’t care much about aesthetics, but Dan does. Hence the kitchen cabinet dance.
Apparently, all my husband’s friends are Phils. I love Phil. I mean I REALLY love Phil. But I think if I had to share a kitchen with Phil every day for years I would end up tearing a cabinet door off the hinges with my bare hands and beating him over the head with it.
Dan Howell is a stronger person than I ever gave him credit for.