SH: What are you doing?
Me: Duh. Throwing my junk mail into the recycling.
SH: But I didn't get to look at it. You didn't even open it.*
Me: So what? It's addressed to me.
SH: But it came to our house. I get to look at it.
Me: Leave me alone. I get to make the decisions about my own mail.
* SH opens and seriously considers every single piece of mail he gets, including the letter from the Hospice Institute. And then he complains that he has no free time.