Dept. of Small Gripes

There is no way I can complain about my housekeeper’s new assistant storing our flatware incorrectly — e.g., she cannot seem to differentiate between dinner and salad forks, or between tea and soup spoons, nor has it dawned on her why the drawer has four such compartments (she blithely fills two with assorted spoons, and the other two with assorted forks) — without sounding like an asshole, is there?

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