I love him dearly, but I may have to kill him

When I started dating DJ I knew that he would need more help than most people.  For those of you that don't know, he has Muscular Dystrophy.  If' you're interested in more information, read this.

 DJ is in a wheelchair full time.  Our new house is fully handicap accessible, which is an absolute blessing.  The kitchen counters are low enough for him to use, he can roll under the sink & stove top, our oven door opens sideways so he doesn't have to lean over it to get things in & out & we have a roll in shower.

Even still, there's a lot of things out of reach or just generally too difficult for him to do on his own.  I don't mind doing any of those things.  I don't even mind helping with the things he can do on his own if that makes it easier for him.

BUT...

If you use the last of something THROW THE GODDAMN BOX AWAY!!!!

We had this conversation recently, & he swore that he "didn't know it was the last one."  It was a box with packs of crackers in it (which has no lid, by the way), so I'm not sure how he couldn't have know, but whatever.  I made my point, so I let it go...until today.

I came home from the grocery store today, & as I'm putting things away I find a box - with one granola bar left.  No big deal, right?  Wrong.  DJ eats granola bars like they're becoming extinct.  That box should have been long gone, but mysteriously, there's one left.  I'm pretty sure he left it in there because he didn't feel like throwing the box away.

Ughhh....

Disability or not, that was just plain lazy.