My husband had done little but play video games since he was given a Wii for his birthday. For some reason, he took a strange liking toward a fast food based video game called “Drive Thru.”
Intent on setting high score after high score, he would eat all the burgers in the maze while eating real hamburgers that I’d cooked for him. This beef intensive diet was causing me to worry about his physical health as well.
The questions began to mount in my mind.
“Perhaps he’s acting out some childhood lack of fun and adventure?”
“Perhaps it’s the smell of healthy food that I’ve been eating that made him snap.”
“Has he even snapped yet?”
“Maybe he doesn’t know what’s real anymore!”
At first my concerns weren’t taken seriously. He would lay his controller-blistered hand on my hand to comfort me. But, eventually I became more persistent in my questioning. And he finally became more serious in his answers.
“Do you realize I might be the best player in the world?” he asked inquisitively. “How many people do you know that are the best at something?”
I had a slightly different view of him. He saw himself as a conqueror, achieving new heights with every sit-down. I saw him as a guy on a couch, covered in fallen sesame seed bun crumbs.
This might call for some drastic action. I soon started swapping the ground beef for veggie burgers to make his diet a bit more stable. He didn’t seem to notice the change through his intense frame of mind.
And as for the game, well, the “deep fry high” seems to finally be wearing off for him. He’s down to an every other day “Drive Thru” habit.
I was with my husband on a trip in Niagara Falls. We had been on the Canadian side and were about ready to cross back over to the US side. As we were going through customs my husband was driving our large truck and he pulled slowly to the window where the guard was standing.
The guard looks at my husband and says, “What is your nationality?” My husband spouts off “Ohio” (state changed to protect the innocent LOL).
The guard looks a bit irritated and says again, “What is your nationality?” My husband is clearly confused at this point and looks toward me for advice…I said under my breath, “Tell him you are AMERICAN!!!” The whole time I was thinking, “Oh my gosh.
They are going to pull out the SWAT team on us any moment. We are not going to get back across the border!!” I will NEVER forget the expressions on the guards face, my husband’s or the lovely feeling as we finally crossed safely back into the US.
When my 30th birthday was coming up, I was getting excited but tried not to show it.
I figured with it being a bit of a milestone, my husband would be doing something extra special to make my day bright. He told me to make sure I could leave work early and meet him for dinner at our favourite restaurant. I had all kinds of thoughts running through my head. We’d talked about going on an overseas trip so I thought maybe he’d be surprising me with this fantasy trip we’d talked about for so long. Well, we got to the restaurant and had a delicious meal. There was no mention of any trip or birthday present or anything during our conversation.
I started to think that maybe he hadn’t gotten me anything at all. But he assured me that he did have something special waiting for me in the car. We soon left the restaurant and were driving when he suddenly said he had to run an errand. He stopped the car at a hardware store and I just assumed he needed something for his job. But, no. That wasn’t it at all. When he got back in the car, he looked at me and said, “Happy Birthday. Enjoy.”
Then he tossed the bag over to me and I looked inside. There sitting in a paper bag was a shower head to replace the one that had broken in our bathroom! And to top it off, he looked so proud of himself. So now when my birthday rolls around, I keep my expectations low.
My husband and I have been trying to avoid getting bored in our marriage by proactively taking steps to ensure that this doesn’t happen. We have been married 15 years. I am 40 and he is 46. One of the ideas that we came up with was to go dancing at a club like we did when we were younger.
We thought it would be fun to have a contest and see who gets “hit on” the most. We are both good looking for our age, but didn’t quite look like most of the young hip 20s crowd.
After about an hour (and more than a few cocktails), we had enough courage to split up and see who would “win” the bet.
I walked around a bit, saw some appreciative glances in my direction and even managed to get asked to dance. I was feeling pretty good until I saw my husband (with a big goofy grin on his face ) draped in the arms of a woman. Of course, I felt a little pang of jealousy that he so clearly won our bet, but figured fair is fair and let him have his moment of glory. After a few minutes, I strolled over to retrieve him from her clutches. She was very sweet and very pretty and my husband looked like he had just signed with the Yankees.
I told him it was time to go home (hubby looking very triumphant) but as we were walking away, she grabbed us. I thought she was gearing up for a fight, but she giggled and said, “thanks for loaning me your husband. I was trying to get away from a guy that was hitting on me so I told him that your husband was my protective Father and he better stay away.”
I couldn’t stop laughing the entire way home. As you can imagine, that was the last time we went to a club.
A few years ago, I decided to throw a surprise 50th birthday party for John. I had been moderately successful for his big-3-0 and the scary-4-0, so I was worried that he might be expecting something. I had to get creative. His birthday is in January, and mine is in November.
VIOLA! I would throw HIS party on MY birthday, that way I could “fake plan” the worst night of his life, and then surprise him with the party of his dreams.
Now, you have to know that while John is a mostly wonderful husband, he’s a total guy kind of guy– a die hard fan of ESPN, “his” Giants, and cigars. He LOVES cigars. Luckily, we don’t live that far from Manhattan, which is a cigar mecca. For his birthday, I would find a cigar bar, invite twenty of our closest friends, rent a black jack table, and celebrate Macanudo-style.
Last night my husband finally decided to do the cooking (it’s only been 20 years of marriage for him to make this offer). He’d been resisting of course as his culinary skills are terrible. He’d sooner throw the can of beans at the wall before figuring out that he could open the drawer for a can opener.
So, in his first attempt ever in the kitchen, he started by getting out a recipe book.
He got a saucepan, stuck it on the burner, and lit it.
What next? Oh, yes, fry the chicken. Did he chop it up? No, it was bloody terrible. You’d think that he would see how burnt it became but ALSO no. He added the spices and the sauce and attempted to stir.
He was meant to use Cous Cous. However, being a bloke, this wasn’t an option so he replaced my beautiful idea of a romantic meal with CHIPS!
Needless to say, the meal looked like what it should have been an hour after I digested it, brown, sticky, and pretty awful.
My three kids had been begging for a dog for years so this Christmas we finally caved in and decided to buy one. We spent three hours at a nearby shelter “interviewing” all the dogs. There were so many cute dogs, but there was one in particular that crawled into our hearts.
He was a beautiful, soft, golden retriever puppy. The kids were thrilled. We were told to wait until the next day so the dog could have his final checkup. I sent my husband to the shelter bright and early the next morning to pick up our new puppy.
When he got home, we all ran to the car to greet our new family member. To our huge surprise, we were not greeted by a golden retriever puppy but by some large animal that looked like a pit bull. You can imagine the hysteria from the kids. My husband didn’t understand….he said, “what do you mean, this is the same dog.”. We thought he was kidding but the look on his face was pure confusion.
When we not so calmly explained that this fierce looking pit bull type dog wasn’t even close to our cute little retriever puppy, he said he understood and rushed back to the shelter to pickup our dog. We ended up getting the right dog, but who confuses a mangy looking pit bull with a golden retriever puppy?
We have three boys, and as you might imagine, the television is tuned to sports 24-7. My husband enjoys sports, but he is not really a sports nut. As the boys have grown, they have gotten even more interested in the rules of the game, and they follow the statistics of each and every player.
My husband has been able to “fake” his knowledge for the most part. However, last Sunday, during the football game, there were several calls by the ref that were questionable. The three boys started arguing to prove their respective points. I know my husband wanted to step in as the expert, but he was stumped!
It was then that I noticed him excusing himself to the bathroom with “The Female Fan Guide to Pro Football” tucked under his arm.
As I walked into the front door of our house after getting home from work, Chris walked up to me and gave me a big hug. He gets home before I do usually.
“Hey Kara, how was your day,” he asked. “Busy,” I replied. “I’m glad I’m finally home so we can get everything taken care of for our barbecue tomorrow and have some time to relax.”
“Yeah, we can watch a chick flick or something. Well, you can watch one and I’ll sit with you and pretend that I’m watching while I’m really probably just going to fall asleep.” I laughed at him and playfully pushed him away.
“Did you remember to get my soap at the store,” Chris asked.
I looked at him with a look of shame and said, “Oh my goodness, I forgot all about going to the store! I am so sorry. I’ll go back and get it.” Chris smirked and said, “I thought you might forget. It’s okay. I’ll just use yours tonight and smell a little fruity tomorrow for the barbecue. It’s better than smelling bad!” We agreed to this and began the process of marinating our steaks for the next day.
When we woke up the next morning, Chris rolled over and sleepily said, “Your soap made my skin tingle when I used it, and now it feels weird.” I said, “It’s supposed to tingle. It’s exfoliating” as I chalked Chris’ statement up to the fact that he had never used girly soap before and thought nothing of it.