Pet Peeves and Pure Hatred

They say everyone has a pet peeve, something minor that drives them mad. My dad can't stand drinks being vaguely near the edge of the table, my mum goes crazy about dirty plates being left anywhere. I don't mind my dad's pet peeve because if he sees a drink near the edge of the table he moves it an inch or so inwards. My mum however is a different story, once we have finished a meal she starts to get annoyed at the presence of dirty plates on the table but does absolutely nothing to solve it, instead forcing me and my siblings to remove them, if it bothers her that much she would get off her arse and move them. Rather annoyingly I have forgotten what my pet peeve is so I can't write about it and mock myself, sorry.

I can however remember my pure hatred. There is nothing that raises my blood pressure like lateness. This is a hatred shared by both my dad and my brother, in the words of my dad: "late says' my time is more important than yours'." If someone is late meeting me without any warning I find myself doing nothing, wasting my time waiting around. Late wastes time for everyone and less is achieved, it is infuriating. In order not to appear hypocritical I avoid being late at all costs, I always leave more than enough time for things and if there is even the slightest chance of me being late I text or call whoever I am meeting. There is no way late is ever a good thing, when a woman says "I'm late" it strikes fear and panic into the heart of a man, or so I've heard. If a baby is late it causes discomfort to the mother and could mean labour has to be induced to prevent disintegration of the placenta. Late can mean dead. There is no good late. Fact.