My untidy kitchen #1

I go through the post every day and deal with anything that looks as though we might get evicted if I ignore it (or leave it for Stephen, which comes to the same thing). I also open anything handwritten, just in case it's a party invitation or a birth announcement or something else that's fun and exciting and suggestive of a life beyond excavating cold Ready Brek from the floorboard gaps. Everything else gets left in a pile, which gets bigger and bigger until Stephen knocks it over and gets annoyed.
'Why do you keep this stuff?' he asks, brandishing charity appeals and catalogues and invitations to sale previews and exclusive offers on credit cards (yes, they're still sending them out - don't they read the papers?) and once-in-a-lifetime opportunities to consolidate all my debts into one easy monthly repayment (Note to Advertisers: There is NO SUCH THING as an easy monthly repayment.)
And instead of saying, 'Why don't you go through the post, Stephen?' I find myself putting forward one or more of the following arguments:

• I am going to do craft projects with the children and we need the pictures
  
• I may want to buy hand-crafted door knobs or macrame owl wall hangings one day
• I am vastly concerned with the plight of innocent kittens
• There might be something important in the pile
  
• The item in question was addressed to him and it's against my principles to open anything addressed to anyone else or make decisions about its ultimate fate.

None of which make any impression. I throw it all away in a fit of pique and the whole cycle starts again.
And just after I've thrown it all away, I decide that a macrame owl wall hanging would be a perfect present for Stephen's elderly aunt, and then remember half way through going through the bin that Stephen doesn't have an elderly aunt, and feel irritated with Stephen. After all, he was the one who knocked the pile over.