I love my husband. There is just something about him that is irresistible to me. He’s hilarious, smart, he knows the answer to almost every question I ask him, he doesn’t dress like an asshole, he is a wonderful father, and he is extremely supportive of my having time for myself. I find it hard to complain about him. Particularly now that I know some mothers who are struggling with their marriages, because, really, my guy? He’s da bomb.

So, I like him and everything, but you must know (and anyone that has come within 5 feet of a serious relationship, marriage or not, does) that this union of ours isn’t always a Broadway show of love and awesomeness. There have been issues on both ends of our relationship. For example, last night, in a bizarre moment of utter dudeness, my husband asked me if we had ESPN. For those of you who don’t know my husband, his asking me that question would be equivalent to my asking him if he could help me mainline heroin or if he needed anything from Abercrombie and Fitch. So, when just yesterday, for the first time in 11 years of our relationship, John told me that he “loves” the World Cup and then asked me if we had ESPN, I simply replied, “I’m moving out.” Because, dude. Oprah has her no-phone zone and I have my no organized sports zone. And that zone is pretty much anywhere that I am. (I just know that my cousin is feeling a sense of relief right now that he didn’t marry someone like me, and you know what? I’m cool with that.)

Then there is me. I’m obnoxious. Sometimes I listen to myself as I talk relentlessly about something or other, and I actually find my own self annoying. Do you ever realize something about yourself that is fairly unattractive but while you are realizing it you simultaneously realize that you have been this way your whole life and it is pretty much too late to change it? And don’t tell me that anyone can change anything about themselves if they work hard enough, because while that may be true, it is also true that I get tired just thinking about changing certain things about myself. I can’t even shave my legs, for the love of all things holy. All of you can just adapt to me. Plus, I’m adorable the way I am.

Apparently, I don’t wash the bottoms of pots and pans. And that is gross to John. It isn’t like I vomit on them first. And who licks the bottom of pots or pans? I’m chatty in the shower and never about anything urgent, just mostly things like, “Hi!” and maybe, “what is the temperature going to be today?” When I need help with something I never just ask for help. If I can’t reach something, instead of just asking him to get it for me I ask, “John, how tall are you?” or in lifting something heavy, “John, how strong are you?”

Or there is always this:



“Can I ask you a favor?”


“Can you pass the salt?”

I don’t know why I do it. But I do, and quite honestly, although it has been a small issue at times, it isn’t high on my list of priorities to change it.

I have a zero-tolerance policy about some things, and I have had to use tough love about them. No generic Ritz crackers or tampons for example. You may call that preference, plain and simple, but for me it’s the law. Have you ever had a generic Ritz? Do a taste test. Don’t taste the tampons. No country music, and no idiotic jokes with racial or derogatory gender punch lines told in my presence, please. (This is not a problem in our house, but I think I included it so that you never come into my house playing Toby Keith and saying, “three whores and a wetback walk into a bar . . .”)

(And just so you know, I typed in “Country music asshole” when I couldn’t remember Toby Keith’s name and it came up.)

Not that John is a freaking prince. He’s cute and all, but . . . sweet Jesus! I can ask him to grab something from the other room and he says, “sure!” He leaves the room and comes back seven seconds later without the thing and starts to do something else. In nine seconds he has forgotten the reason he left the room. Nine seconds, people! He loads the dishwasher like he is on crack (which I know I’ve mentioned in the past but it still alarms me every time I open the dishwasher), and he will complain that I haven’t made a vegetable with dinner, but two hours later, he will eat two bowls of Cocoa Krispies. When he feels strongly about something, even if it is, say (to honor an old family gripe) liquid soap, he will speak to you as if you are both hard of hearing and the devil. Now Rowan will get upset and tell him to use a different voice, and I just nod at John like I now have proof that he talks like he is at a town hall meeting.

Both John and I are very quiet (you can close your mouth now) and introverted people. We cherish our alone time, would rather read a book all night than go to a party, and we appreciate autonomy. We bonded over this as we began to date and it is the reason, I believe, that we will stay married until one of us dies from cancer (since it seems to be killing everyone). We have more similarities than differences, and I feel confident saying that we appreciate the nuances of our differences. I find him fascinating and so socially conscious that it is inspirational. There are so many people in my life and family that know only one fraction of a tenth of him, and mostly I feel bad for them. I’m still thankful that I was almost able to clone him by having two boys. Okay, clearly I love him but, dude, I have been washing my own pots and pans without contracting dysentery for years before I met John! What sacrifices we make!

I say all of this because apparently, I will be watching the World Cup. Or at least hearing about the World Cup. I would rather devein myself, but alas, this is love . . . and if I watch the World Cup, maybe, just maybe, he will let me chat with him while I am in the shower.



Filed under Confessions., Love & Marriage.

7 responses to “Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool!

  1. Kira

    OK this is hysterical. The part about Rowan asking John to use a different voice killed me. And the nine seconds thing. I love your blog.

    Also, I feel your pain about the talking in the shower thing. I drive Adam crazy. I am not allowed to speak in the morning, or I’ll be killed. There are other times I’m not allowed to talk, but I can’t really mention them here. Also, I leave piles of hair everywhere. And I can’t operate the Saran Wrap. I mean, who can? I hate Saran Wrap. Also, I describe things specifically, like with brand names, and Adam hates that. Instead of saying “the pizza,” apparently I say “the Red Baron sausage-and-pepperoni rising crust pizza.”

    Anyway, I just laughed a lot. Thanks!! Maybe while you’re “watching” the World Cup, you can secretly be writing more hilarious blogs!!

  2. Thank goodness most of the “action” in the world cup is from fans raising a pint. Seriously, John can shower and you can chat during a long-ass boring ole match and no one will miss a thing!

  3. olivermcbubbins

    Man, I love this entire post. How you manage such constant hilarity while making a point is beyond me. I have points to address:

    I love you very much, even if you don’t watch sports. Nancy doesn’t like too many things I watch, but honestly I’m not as bad as a lot of people. No cable, for example.

    Toby Keith is “country music asshole?” No way!

    Something about World Cup appeals to non-sport fans. Don’t worry, it doesn’t appear to be a gateway drug.

    When Nancy and I argue, Oliver says, 99% of the time, “Be nice Mama!” I know the feeling you are feeling. Who knew I’d be the quiet one?

    While you’re hearing soccer in the background of your reading, just know that the beehive sound is something called a zuzuvela. Good luck reading with that going on.

    • nancy

      The Quite one my a#%! And we don’t have cable a hundred times over because every time you even think of it, you then look over at me and know I would walk strait out the door, to the divorce attorney, and file the papers.

      But honestly Soccer isn’t so bad – I can handle that. At least they’re not running on a field with helmets right frickin into each other and stopping the game every flippin 5 seconds – BORING!

      I am however feeling kinda bad for myself – I want to know John better! Maybe you guys could plan a trip up here?

  4. Ryan

    Well look on the bright side…as far as sports go, you will at least have some amazing eye candy! For some odd reason soccer (football to the rest of the world) has some of the hottest men, no seriously just look at them! They may not be your type and you may not want to sleep with all of them, unlike me, but they are almost all beautiful and are so very well built. Oh and when you get bored just have your kids play the “How long can you say GOOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLL” game…..that should put an end to the watching of sports!

  5. Amanda


  6. karen smith

    My stomach hurts from laughing. This is one reality show I would watch! I only know a fraction of John and love him! I just love that he says “sure!” when you ask him for something. You two are inspiring.

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