Entries from December 2009
Whenever we have a social event to go to, my husband and I are almost always late. Why are we late? Well, it’s because one of us changes our clothes numerous times – indecisive and unsatisfied. You might be thinking that person is me because I’m the girl, after all and isn’t that what girls do? We put on one outfit, discard that one and try another then another then another…only to end up in the original outfit 45 minutes later while our guys sit patiently waiting (or, more likely, impatiently waiting) while constantly checking their watches and simultaneously watching the game or surfing the internet or tinkering with tools. Yeah, that’s the stereotype.
But since this blog is called My Husband is Annoying you already know that’s not how it works in our household, don’t you? I don’t even really need to tell you that my husband is the one who takes forever to get ready, do I? Well, I’ll tell you anyway. Last week we were going to visit family for Christmas and we had a train to catch. So I get ready and in my usual routine, put on whatever fits and is clean. Then I sit down to wait. And wait. And wait. My husband will try on about 5 different outfits, in all different sweater/jeans combinations. And (hooray!) just when I think he’s decided…he changes his mind once again. And when he finally gets his outfit nailed down, you’d think we were done, right? Uh, no. Then he’s got to work on the hair. The whole time, I’m glaring at him and pointing at the clock but I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t even notice me.
Inevitably, we end up practically running to the train station where we either miss or just make the train. Every single time. Who knew that men could be such…girls?
No, we don't actually have a makeup artist at home but my husband probably wishes we did.
Categories: Uncategorized
Like most couples when my husband and I discovered we were expecting, we went out and bought some books. The typical stuff: What to Expect When You’re Expecting, Your Pregnancy Week by Week, etc… The books were supposed to help me not only figure out what kind of freaky things were about to happen to me and my body but also explain a lot of the freaky things that were already happening and I was completely mystified by. (If you are pregnant or have ever been, you know what I’m talking about; all those things that nobody actually talks about that all of a sudden come as a complete shock when they start happening to you, no matter how knowledgeable you think you may be or how much you may have paid attention in Sex Ed. Don’t worry, I won’t go into detail.)
The books were pretty helpful but unfortunately they also had an unintended side effect: it turns out they’re basically like a menu of maladies that my husband is now choosing from. One day he starts complaining of dizziness. The next day he has back pain that came out of nowhere. All of a sudden, he’s having these crazy dreams that disturb his sleep. Nausea? Yup. Leg cramps? Of course. Fatigue? Well, duh. What’s next? I guess I’ll have to consult the books and see what to expect. That’s right folks…my husband is stealing my pregnancy symptoms!
Now, you can call these “sympathy pains” all you want but I’m not buying it. I call it stealing my thunder. I also call it highly annoying. Isn’t this my time to be pampered? Shouldn’t I be the one to have all the reasons to take to my bed and eat bon bons? (What are bon bons anyway? Do they even still make them?) The only upside to feeling like crap for all this time is that I’m supposed to be waited on hand and foot! Instead, I now have to share the misery with my husband who, I’m sure, will somehow find a way to also make the actual labor all about him. Oh, this is going to be a very long pregnancy.
Maybe he watched the movie "Junior" too many times
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: pregnancy, sympathy pains
[Today we have a guest post from Julie, whose husband has a very interesting way of trying to save his energy. If you ask me, it looks like he's making things harder rather than easier but hey, that's men for ya! Anyway, the story and especially the pictures made me laugh so thanks, Julie!
Don't forget, if you've got funny stories and pictures you'd like to share, send them to me at: myhusbandisannoying@live.com.]
My husband is not lazy. He’s really not. He’s a computer scientist that takes on projects just for fun, a drummer that practices for hours on end, and he gets up early and goes into the office before anyone else. He’s actually pretty motivated. But for some reason that is yet unknown to me in our seven months of marriage, all this motivation EVAPORATES when it comes to accomplishing simple everyday tasks. Rather than being his usual motivated self, he will do whatever it takes to avoid expending an extra ounce of energy.
Last week we were wrapping Christmas presents on the living room floor, and I said ‘Hey babe, would you grab me the tape?’ (which was sitting a few feet away from him), and rather than, say, reaching over and picking it up and handing it to me nicely, he reaches out with his foot, struggles to pick it up with his toes, and tosses it in my direction. Okay, fine. So he tossed me something with his feet rather than handing it to me like a civilized person. No big deal. IF it only happened once. A few minutes later, I realized the ribbon spool was sitting on the side table, which was also on his side of the room. ‘Hey babe, would you grab me the ribbon?’ He looks around, sees it on the table, then CRAB-WALKS to the table, grabs it with his feet, scoots back over and hands it to me using his feet (“Hands it to me” seems wrong here. “Foots” it to me?). It’s as though the very thought of using his hands to accomplish something offends his sense of efficiency.
Later, when our “Christmas with the Rat Pack” CD ended, I said, “Babe, would you start the CD over?” He looks around, grabs the roll of wrapping paper, and reaches as far forward as he can in order to punch the play button with the wrapping paper tube. When I asked him why he didn’t use his feet, he assured me that would have been a ridiculous idea when the wrapping paper was sitting right there. Good point, babe. What was I thinking?
-Julie
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: guest post
Like all good New Yorkers, my husband and I order takeout far more than anybody should. And, as Winter has begun to really rear its ugly head, calling in for delivery has become a must to avoid going outside. This had led to an interesting discovery about my husband: he completely freezes up when it comes to dealing with food delivery people. Yeah, my intelligent, verbose husband who spent most of his career as a reporter having to approach strangers on the street and ask them sometimes personal questions and hold conversations with them seems to have a very odd fear of the people who deliver our Chinese takeout.
This initially came to my attention the first time I asked him to call to place our order. Up until that point, I had always been the one to call but this time I was busy doing something else. Well, he reluctantly agreed to call and then proceeded to give them the wrong phone number. When I kept trying to interject so he could correct himself, he got completely flustered and basically hung up on the person. Huh, that was strange. I assumed it was just a one-time only thing that my weird husband does every once in a while. But then the food arrived and I once again asked him to take care of it. Well, all of a sudden he seems to lose every rational brain cell he ever had. All ability to count money: gone. All ability to calculate a tip: gone. All ability to be a normal human being: gone. What happened to my husband? Apparently, when it comes to any aspect of ordering takeout, he has a meltdown and I guess this is yet another thing that I’ll have to do myself from now on. And the fun part is, when I really want to freak him out, I’ll just put on this costume:
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: fear of delivery people
Back by popular demand!
We’ll kick it off this week with one of my husband. He has many professional reasons to be proud, but this week he reached –what he considers– a new height of achievement: appearing in a zombie video. He’s been playing the clip over and over, and even writing on his own blog about fighting zombies (though he does lose at the end…even I know to never turn your back on a zombie, whether you have a plastic shotgun or not).
Now on to yours!
From Mallory:
“My boyfriend is a band director and he’s passion is collecting ukuleles. This summer, he managed to purchase an electric ukulele, much to my dismay. He then decided to “rock it out” by adding a mini amp and distortion peddle to it. What’s worse is that he thinks that serenading me with it is considered romantic, when really it’s just loud and annoying and most of the time I’m afraid the neighbors will come banging on our apartment door complaining. Right now he is trying to play along with The Proclaimers 500 Miles. Did I mention that he is teaching himself how to play it, so most of the time he gets the notes wrong?”
From Angie:
“This is a photo of my husband in a Zulu Warrior costume. He is part of a war gaming group where they play out different war scenarios by rolling dice and moving their carefully painted and historically accurate action figures. As if that isn’t geeky enough, on this particular day they were reenacting a Zulu war. Because my husband was the last one to arrive he “had to” wear the Zulu Warrior costume. As you can see from the photo, he was really upset about receiving this punishment for arriving last.”
From Diana:
“This is my husband, on Christmas morning. He was anxious to test out his new sleeping bag from Santa! Even the dog thinks he is nuts!”
♦We are on the verge of one of the truly magical times of the year: Christmas morning and New Year’s Eve, when our annoying husbands and boyfriends outdo themselves and don’t seem to object to being captured on camera doing so. So please–please–don’t hesitate to send the classics for inclusion here on PHOTO FRIDAY! Send them to: myhusbandisannoying@live.com
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: Photo Friday, zombies
I got so sick of my husband constantly complaining about his sinuses and how he’s (*wah*) suffering that I insisted he go to an allergist. He now gets weekly allergy shots which feels like a small victory in itself. But his complaining about the congestion and stuffiness has now been replaced by the weekly lament I have to hear.
“The doctor stabbed me with some kind of a large metal weapon! *Wah*”
“I was assaulted at the doctor’s office today! *Wah*”
“I have no feeling in my arm anymore from where I was beaten by a needle! *Wah*”
“I was placed in a torture chamber where I was forced to endure venomous material forced into my body! *Wah*” (By the way, I read my husband’s tweets while he sits in the doctor’s office…he raves about the free wi-fi and the fantastic brand new magazines in the cushy waiting room.)
“I’m being poisoned and I think I’m dying! *Wah*”
Now I’m not sure which is worse – the complaints about the symptoms or the whining about the cure.
Categories: Uncategorized
You know how a lot of women complain how hard their husbands are to shop for? Well, I don’t usually have that problem. My husband is generally not shy about expressing what he wants and he’s not one of those guys who claims to not need anything. So far, it’s been great and makes my life much easier when birthdays or Christmas rolls around. And yet for some reason, this year he’s decided to pull the whole “I don’t want or need anything” act, which I’m not buying at all. Here’s how it would go: I’d open my present(s) on Christmas morning (because I’ve got a whole list of things that I’d like – I’m easy to shop for!) and then when he discovered that there’s absolutely nothin’ for him under the tree, he’d sulk like a little boy forgotten by Santa.
So even though I’ve contemplated just placing a lump of coal in his stocking to get back at him for refusing to cooperate in the time honored tradition of making Christmas all about the materialistic stuff, instead I insisted that he send me a list of things that he’d like. I specifically said, “Even if they’re just small things, I’d like to be able to get you something for Christmas.” I was expecting to get a list full of the little things my husband normally likes…pens, coffee, notepads, you get the idea. But when I opened the email (cc’d to Santa, by the way), I found a link to this:
Yeah, we can barely afford dog food some weeks and yet he puts a Maserati on his list. Oh, he is definitely getting a lump of coal in his stocking.
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: Christmas, lump of coal, Maserati
[Today's Guest Post comes to us from Kelsey...the picture made me laugh out loud. Thanks for sharing your story, Kelsey! If you've got a story (and hopefully a picture to go along with it!) about your husband or boyfriend that you'd like to see on the blog, send it to: myhusbandisannoying@live.com.)
No matter when we have to leave, what has to be done, or how close we are to going to bed...he just wants to take a nap. It starts out just like this,
Him: "What time do we have to be there?"
Me: "5:30, and we better leave a little early so we don't sit in traffic."
Him: "Well can I take a nap first?"
Me: "...You realize it's 4:30, right?"
Yes, he asks me like he's a little kid. This would all be fine if he actually took naps. Instead, he will pass out for 3 hours into what most people would call a coma. Sometimes he'll ask me to wake him up in 10 minutes. To be nice, I'll continue doing whatever and let him sleep an hour. When I go back to the room to get him up, he says, "But I didn't really nap! It took me forever to fall asleep and Dobby [the dog] kept moving around, and then someone locked their car…” This is his excuse every single time.
It’s easy to tell he’s lying. When this guy’s head hits the pillow he’s out no matter what background noise there is. I’ve even attached proof. We bought a new dining room table for our kitchen. I did a lot of the work, and he just had to move some of the trash out of the kitchen. I went back to the bedroom to look out the window to find out why moving some boxes onto the deck takes 2 hours. This is what I found:
-Kelsey
Categories: Uncategorized
My husband and I found out that we were expecting two days before we were scheduled to leave for our vacation to Dublin. Now, I don’t know about you but one of the first things that comes to mind when I think of Dublin is: Pubs. (Hey, Dubliners, don’t get all upset…I know there’s much more to do there than just go to pubs but you’ve got to admit that you people sure do like your Guinness.) So, as happy and excited as we were about the news, I’d say the timing left a little to be desired. Or perhaps our choice of vacation left a little to be desired because believe me, I never would’ve agreed to go to Dublin if I knew I couldn’t drink.
I figured that once we got there we might hit a few pubs but my husband, ever the sensitive man, would decline most. Maybe he’d have some beer with dinner and I certainly wouldn’t complain about that. And of course I knew that we’d have to visit the Guinness Factory where he’d get his free Guinness and even I couldn’t make an issue out of this. (Free is free, after all.) Well, I knew I was doomed the instant we landed and we were bombarded with signs and banners touting Arthur’s Day. But I didn’t know at the time just how bad it would be.
You remember in that last paragraph when I called my husband sensitive? Yeah, not so much. He insisted on going to about 4 pubs a day. ”But they’re historic pubs!” he’d proclaim as if that made it any better for me. In fact, he had the whole Pubs to Visit section dog-eared in our guidebook and he seemed determined to hit every single one of those pubs. So, trying to be the nice wife and not spoil his vacation experience, I agreed to go to many of these pubs where he’d sit there enjoying his beer while I drank my water, growing more and more bitter with every sip. And when we went to the Guinness Factory where he claimed his free Guinness and I claimed my free Sprite, believe me when I tell you that I didn’t enjoy the experience nearly as much as he did. By the end of the trip, I was completely over it. And when, on our last day in which I thought the torture was over, he stopped in front of a pub and said, “This one’s in the book! We have to go in!”, I lost it. Full-on temper tantrum, guilt-tripping, do you care about your newly pregnant wife at all?!? lost it.
Moral of the story? Well, it’s either (a) Don’t go on vacation to a place where much of the activity is centered around drinking if you can’t drink or (b) Men are really, really insensitive when alcohol is involved.
Below is just a very small sampling of the many, many pubs I was forced to sit in while not being able to drink during our Dublin vacation:
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: Dublin, insensitivity, pregnancy, pubs
For some reason, my husband never carries any cash with him. If we’re out together and he wants to pick up a newspaper or a cup of coffee, he’ll ask me for cash. If we’re not together, we end up with a multitude of debit card receipts for $2 or less. When I do our banking or balance our checkbook, I’m constantly amazed at the number of times he’ll use plastic to pay for his tiny purchases. Call me old fashioned, but I don’t think anybody should pay for a stamp with a credit card.
A while ago, we were at Starbucks where my husband wanted to get a coffee. Now, he doesn’t drink any of those fancy latte or frappuccino thingies; he is a straight up coffee guy. So when he buys coffee at Starbucks, it generally costs around $1.75. We could probably find $1.75 just looking under the cushions of our couch. And yet, he never has cash. So he whipped out the credit card and I cringed in embarrassment. And when I tried to hand him two singles, he insisted that he didn’t need it. ”It’s faster just to swipe my card!”
Why do men always think faster is better? (Just once I’d like a backrub that lasts longer than 30 seconds….)
Categories: Uncategorized
