Horrible Roommate

I am a horrible roommate. It doesn't matter if I've shared a living space with a fellow college student, a best girl friend, my children or my husband. I am a horrible roommate.

I get up first every morning, just so I can hog the hot water. My husband thinks I'm a morning person. Nope; I just like hot water. When I am ready to go to bed, everyone should go to bed. If there is one last swig of milk, it's mine. I don't play rock, paper, scissors to see who gets to take a nap on Sunday. I do. I love my family, but I could easily become a female hermit, just so I could always choose what to do each day. I might allow the dog to stay. He lets me do anything I want, as long as he can tag along.

Over the years I've had to learn to rein in my naturally selfish tendencies. Children will do that to you. And marriage requires that whole "give and take" thing. For several years I was a single parent, on the go from 6 AM to 10 PM. When the kids were put to bed, I had a glorious 30, maybe 45 minutes of awake time to myself. It was my time to regroup, reflect, apply fragrant lotion to that rough skin on my elbows.

Being a horrible roommate has been the roughest part of being married again. You can tell my husband is still a newly wed. If he minds that I am territorial, he doesn't let me know. If I turn the TV off at night in the middle of the third quarter of a tied hockey game, he just quietly goes to the living room to watch it. And, he graciously sleeps in most mornings, just so I can get up first and hog the hot water.

What is the mantra for AA ... admitting you have a problem is the first step? I admit I'm a horrible roommate. Does anyone know what step 2 is?