How To Drive Your Husband Insane (temporarily)

I’ve heard many versions of this over the years but I still like it.

If you want to put your husband on the spot (when even his breathing is annoying you) and you feel like an argument just for the sake of it – just ask him this:

“What would you do if I died? Would you marry again?”
No matter how he answers you he will be in the WRONG.

If he says he wouldn’t marry again you can start the ball rolling with:
“Why not? Don’t you like being married?”

If he says he would marry again begin with:
“Would you let her sleep in our bed?”

And then just sit back and watch his head explode.

WARNING: Do not try this at home if:
* You are feeling insecure – it could be dangerous for your emotional health.
* You are suffering from PMS – it could be dangerous for his physical health.

A Perfect Day

In 1972 Lou Reed wrote a song called “A Perfect Day”. I came across it on YouTube the other day and it made me think about what can make a perfect day.

Here’s just a few that work for me…

A Perfect Day can be:

Remembering that the kids are spending the entire weekend at their grandparents’.
My extended family getting together for something other than a funeral.
Completing the giant crossword in the Sunday paper in one sitting.
A hug from someone I love without me having to ask for it.
A relaxing bath without any interruptions.
Nobody fighting, yelling or complaining.

Or simply a day when nothing goes wrong…

Perfect Day – Lou Reed

Me And My Computer

I have an odd relationship with my computer. Actually it’s rather like my marriage. Most of the time everything goes well and you take each other for granted. Then something goes wrong and everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

My computer caught a virus and it took me 3 days to finally remove all the traces. The virus warnings kept screaming at me and I was yelling back (but unfortunately no one was listening). Hey… that does sound like my marriage, doesn’t it?

Anyway I finally got the rid of the damn thing (the virus not my husband) and proceeded to deliver an ultimatum to the rest of the family: “The next person who stuffs up my computer will not be allowed to touch it for 3 months!”

But you know it never sticks. My son is strictly forbidden to download stuff because I don’t trust a lot of those free sites that are aimed at teenagers. But every now and then I find something that I know wasn’t there before. But wait – it gets worse! He’s 16 now and what do 16 year old boys like best? You guessed it: naked women!!!

Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to show your grandmother something on your computer, and somehow you open up a folder full of naked women, by mistake? How do you explain it?

You need to get yourself off the hook quickly, but you can’t blame your son (not to his great-grandmother anyway). So I just sat there, completely gob-smacked. And then about five minutes later, I started pontificating about internet viruses and downloads etc.

To this day I’m still not entirely sure that she believed me…

Family Dinners – False Advertising?

I want to live in a TV commercial…

Just once I would like the family to sit down to dinner together without someone, not necessarily one of the kids, whining: “What’s this? I don’t like it” about the food on offer.

On TV ads everyone is excited about the meal the mother/wife has placed on the table. They’re already seated, waiting, with happy expectant faces.

My family have to be hunted down, and driven like lambs to the slaughter to the dinner table. Then the complaining starts. Both kids want a permanent embargo placed on any food that is green. Or new on the menu. They have declared that it’s “child abuse” when I insist that they have at least have a taste.

If I can actually manage to get them together at the table at the same time – it’s a good night.

To have them eat the same meal is an altogether different challenge.
Each one has their own food fetish. My daughter won’t eat cooked vegetables while my son’s only culinary aspiration is to be served sausages at each and every meal.

Have you noticed that in TV commercials everyone is dressed neatly and nicely? There’s no-one wearing a ratty fairy outfit or a filthy footy jumper at THEIR dinner table. And never, ever, does a telemarketer call in the middle of a meal to try and convince you to change mobile carrier.

At our house the TV is blaring in the other room so they can hear it while they eat and not actually have to talk to one another. Well, that’s a lie, they do argue over who got the smallest serving of those “gross things” (peas). And although they can’t see the television they are still fighting over the channel selection while my husband endlessly proclaims to an increasingly unheeding audience that he needs to listen to the news for work.

Just once I’d like to enjoy a family meal amid civilised conversation. So one night I simply turned off the TV and announced amid mournful groans that we were going to have a nice family dinner and each member of the family could chat about something that interested them.

Sounds just like a TV commercial doesn’t it? All that caring and sharing.

Well, not in my house. What I got instead was each one, including the father of the other two, trying to top the others with the worst, most gruesome stories that they could think of, involving bizarre methods of dying. The more blood-curdling, the more they relished it.

So I gave up and turned the television back on… Even the news was less bloodthirsty than my mob.

Mr. Fix-It

Now my husband is a lovely man but he is definitely not a “handyman”.
He is, however, under the impression that it’s his job to fix things.

He also assumes that it’s his job to know the best way to make or repair something.

When we moved in together I already owned a drill – he didn’t even possess a screwdriver at the time. But he is convinced that he is the expert.

I learned how to do simple repairs at an early age – my grandfather taught me, because as he said: “someone in the family has to know how to find a wall stud when I’m gone”.

My father was somehow intrinsically incapable of even replacing a floor tile without leaving an unmovable trail of adhesive across the bathroom floor. He once attached a towel rack to the back of a door with such long nails that you took your life in your hands every time you brushed past the front of the door.

My husband on the other hand, breaks the things he is supposedly fixing. He over-tightens shower heads until they snap, splinters the wood he is nailing and always ends up with a bag full of parts left over from those pre-packaged DIY projects. But of course it’s never his fault. It’s because he doesn’t have the right tools or I misread the instructions.

Now don’t get me wrong. I do appreciate the fact that he tries to do these things. But who died and made him “God of the Tool Box”?

Tell me where it’s written that only a man can fix things? Most women are more than capable of changing a tap washer without flooding the kitchen.

And after all, women are apparently the only people in the entire world who have the technical capability to replace an empty toilet paper roll.