I think my husband loves to play chicken. It’s the daredevil in him. This tango with death…
That’s why he says things that make my eyes glow red in the dark and send me over the edge where I think that the women on “Snapped” may have acted reasonably and with total justification. Because sometimes husbands say things soooo over the line, you have to wonder. Did one of his friends dare him to see if he could survive it? It this a test? Are there hidden cameras somewhere? Is he KIDDING?
Here’s the scenario.
Morning TV show announces that men stop caring about their appearance at 37 years of age. I shake my head and say, “How do they come up with this stuff?”
DH: I know EXACTLY when men stop caring and its completely at a woman’s direction.
me: ?? What does that mean?
DH: Women deliberately make a man unmarketable to keep him close to home and to make sure that he is not a target.
me: Are…you…serious? Women–what was that again? You think that women systematically “claim” men as property by making them look bad?
DH: (nods like I get a gold star) Absolutely!
me: (the arms are crossed. It’s a subtle sign that I’m castling up and he needs to be careful. Naturally he ignores it.) That’s way off, pumpkin. I “control” nothing about your appearance and let the record show that for as long as I’ve known you, every request to alter your wardrobe, shoe choice or you name it, has gone by the boards. I would LOVE for you to be more “marketable” as there isn’t a woman walking that wouldn’t love to have a well-dressed, groomed, handsome man on her arm for bragging rights. I’ll happily burn every torn t-shirt and ugly hawaiian shirt you own if you say the word! What you’re saying goes against all logic, baby.
DH: Whatever you say. (but his expression reads more like : yeah, sure. and then he pats his expanded waistline for emphasis….since I have apparently “deliberately” made him unmarketable…)
me: (Here comes the DEATH STARE…My eyes are red…the odds of him enjoying sleeping outside in a tent are skyrocketing. I stand up.) You caught me. I’m a mastermind of subterfuge and sabotage. I’ve somehow managed to stay the exact same weight, after TWO children, yet all the while I was serving healthy meals to the rest of the family, in your food, I’ve stuck in magically hidden calories. I’ve hypnotized you to eat entire pizzas when you’re out with the boys, to drink beer and diet sodas and eat entire bags of chips after 10pm—all against your will. I am evil. I am jealous and insecure. I have done all this so that I can keep every sexy pound of hawaiian wrapped manliness all to myself. You caught me. Call the news crew.
DH: (grumble mumble grumble)
me: I can see my next romance novel hero now…..can’t you? Wanna guess what he’s wearing?
DH: (retreats without a word….and yes….he has three holes in his t-shirt as he heads out bravely to face the world….a “claimed” man.)