latex gloves please.

Faye was in kitchen humming along to Radio Two when he came in, slamming the door with a little more force than what was necessary. Her short plump arms were wading through the sea of white and blue Tesco bags that covered the work top.

“Bleedin’ stupid they are. I mean, how hard is it? How hard can it actually be?”

The plastic rustled as her hands dipped in and out, putting away the various tins, vegetables, multi-coloured and multi-sized boxes with an air of swift grace. Her pace in her own kitchen however had come very much at the expense of all the other shoppers who had been waiting to pay behind her - she always organised her shopping with acute precision as she packed it up. Long-dates, short-dates, the savouries, the sweets. And, of course, she had to double check the receipt too. And her ClubCard points. Not much is free in this life, you’ve got to milk what you can.

“Would you like a cuppa, love? I bought some more teabags when I popped out before - we were running really low, you know” she said lightly, but Howard chose to ignore her as he continued to vent his frustration.

“…They must be colour-blind or something. But even if that was the case, surely they are capable of reading instructions. I’m sure it says what to do on the actual flippin’ box!”

“I thought we’d try those decaffeinated ones this week” she continued, “Dr Hodgson was telling Julie about them when she went to see him last week – apparently they are meant to be miles better for you… they’re even supposed to be good for getting your blood pressure down and helping you sleep properly – “

“It’s not exactly rocket science thought, is it?” Howard muttered in a low tone, seemingly oblivious to his wife.

“You can still have normal if you want though, sweetie. We’ve got a couple left at the back of the cupboard I’m sure”, Faye tried. If thirty years had taught her anything it was that responding to his grumbles, even with sympathy, would only fuel them further.“These were on offer you see, all those for £1.50” she continued, gesturing to the pale green box as she turned to face her husband. “And I picked some of those nice biscuits up too, the ones with the jam centres…”

Howard moved towards the pine dining table, thumbing through a pile of loose paper. “And to think, they come down here doing all them fancy degree things.…Studies of ology this and computer that…Waste of bloody time if you ask me. Don’t have any common sense though do they…Is any of this completely blank?” he snapped.

“That’s just scrap for Anna and Nina to doodle on when they come over. The writing paper is in the dresser”

“No, no. I don’t want the lined stuff, just plain white”

“Oh, that’s in there too I think. Why love?” she asked with a curious intonation.

As he put on his glasses clutching a thick black marker he met her eye for the first time since he had come in. “I’m writing them a note. And it will explain that paper goes in the blue, glass, tins and their infinite number of cans in the green, plastic in the red, and only domestic in the black.”

“I…see” replied his wife, sounding slightly cautious, “but make sure it’s polite Howie, after all, they’re only youn-

“And if they don’t start doing it they’ll have me to answer to.” His voice rose up as he cut his wife short.

“Now Howard listen, please be polite. I don’t want any trouble…not like, well, you know…

“Please Faye, don’t start. Those kids had no right trouncing onto my land, screaming like they were feral or God knows what –

“Oh for crying out loud, they were getting their ball back! She snapped. Her calm temperament was momentarily lost. “If anyone had spoken to the our girls like that when they were that young then I’m quite sure you wouldn’t have liked it”

“Our girls had more manners than to go sprinting through someone’s flowerbed…”

“But even so, that feud with Kevin when we lived on Orme Street was awful. Please, please, please don’t go starting another one here, especially over a bit of recycling.”

“ ‘A bit of recycling?’ A bit of recycling? You’re as bad as they are sometimes!”

“Stop being ridiculous, Howard. Do you want a tea, or not?”

“I’m not being ridiculous. Look at all them bags you brought back today, again.” He stated as he averted his gaze towards the pile of unpacked and smoothed out carrier bags.” What about using some of the old ones for a change, ey? I’m sick and tired of seeing them - there must be thousands under the sink! Like I said, they will have me to answer to.”

Irritation fizzed up through her arms and her face became flushed. “In fact, forgot it. I’m going out to walk Bobby.” He was tiresome to argue with, his stubbornness was so draining. She knew he wouldn’t respond to her now, after the storm he was always a silent sulker. She grabbed her coat and called out for the dog, her voice uptaking a faux-joy tone; he didn't have to know how much her husband could vex her.

Bobby. Bobby, Bobby. Bobby.

Bobby could be the perfect remedy.

They weren’t the only couple in the street who owned a dog. And it is fact all dogs shit, it could never definitely be traced back. Well it maybe it could, but they if they were too stupid to sort out their recycling then they were almost definitely too stupid to click that it was Bobby’s faeces smeared across the handles of the black bin. ‘That will stop them bunging everything under the sun into it every five minutes’ Howard mused to himself, screwing up his list ready for his own blue box. Maybe some would go through the letterbox too, at least that way they’ll stop being rowdy on the porch… ‘Pesky little brats, they’ll get what’s coming alright.”