a 3 Skittle marriage

About a week ago, Husband brought home a bag of Skittles from work. Husband is a chronic snacker, and accumulates a lot of snacks at work. He has been known to walk to a nearby Wal-Mart to stock up on munchies to stockpile in his desk. So, I was actually surprised that he only brought home a regular sized bag of Skittles, but he let me know that he left the family size bag at work.

SO, after dinner, Husband whips out the Skittles, which naturally prompted a request from me.

"Can I have some?"

"No."

"What?!"

"You don't just want 'some.' If I give you a few, you'll want the rest of the bag."

"Not true! [Yeah, that's probably true.] I asked for 'some' and that is what I meant."

"That is not what you meant."

"So I really can't have any?"

"No."

Not surprisingly, I got all pouty and began analyzing what this lack of sharing means to our relationship. I mean, really? No Skittles? Well, if we don't share Skittles, I can think of a few other things maybe we won't share, either, mister! NO SHARING. Its officially every man for himself in this house. Next time you need some dinner, get it yourself! You can clean your own bathroom! AND DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT TOUCHING ONE OF MY BOOKS. MINE.

A few minutes later, probably to shut me up, Husband offered me the bag.

"Here, you can have the rest."

"Awwwwwww! That's so sweet, babe! I knew you would--- WHAT?! THREE SKITTLES! YOU LEFT ME THREE SKITTLES? Since when do we have a three Skittle marriage?! Is that all I MEAN to you?! THREE SKITTLES?"

Being married to me must truly be such a joy.

The next day, I had totally forgotten about the entire Skittle debacle until Husband came home with nearly an entire bag of Skittles.

"Here, babe. I brought you this so you wouldn't think we have a three Skittle marriage. You can have as many of my Skittles as you want."

And that is why I married him. He listens to me even when I'm loud and shrieky, and he lets me eat his candy.

reaction

"Babe, I wrote on the blog!"

"Oh yeah, what about?"

"You'll just have to read it and find out."

"Well, it can't be about me because I didn't do anything stupid........... did I?"

query

So, earlier tonight, we're Trashmagging, an activity wherein we go to the bookstore and sit for hours reading magazines for free (recession? huzzah!), and in one of my lady mags I come across one of those mind-boggling polls that is supposed to give me deep insight into the male psyche.

Magazines targeted to women are truly horrible.

Anyway, the poll, which claimed to survey 1000 men, asked said men to rate, in order of importance, the attributes they most desire in a wife. The results?

1. Financially saavy

Obviously, I stopped right there because the poll immediately lost all credibility. FINANCIALLY SAAVY? Seriously? Where did they find these men? I'm not thinking I know a single adult male who would, upon meeting, say, Heidi Klum, pause to consider, but what about her portfolio?

Amusingly, there is nothing in this poll about sex or physical appearance until the fifth most desired characteristic. The men in the survey rank intelligence (2), independence (3), and loyalty (4) higher than a willingness to "close your eyes and do your duty" on a regular basis (actual advice given to a friend of mine by her sweet grandmother... at her wedding in front of all her friends).

Everything Cosmo ever taught me about men has been a lie.

I lean across my huge pile of glossies to ask Husband, "if asked, what would you say is the characteristic you most desire in a wife?". I can tell from his freaked out expression that he fears a trap, like I've just asked him if these jeans make me look fat.

"This poll," I say, shoving the magazine under his face, "asked men what they most desire in a wife and they claim the number one answer was that she be financially saavy. FINANCIALLY SAAVY."

"Oh." I've never seen him look so relieved. "I guess its the times we're in. New set of priorities. If it weren't for this economy, number 5 would be number one."

Is this true, gentlemen? Are we suddenly living in some alternate universe where Suze Orman is a more desirable partner than Angelina Jolie? Are you looking for the woman who can bring home the bacon for the cheapest price?

A few minutes later, Husband started whimpering about wanting coffee, and would I please get him some?

"Oh no, dear. In this economy, we have to watch our pennies."

"Hmm."

"But how desirable am I right now?!"

endless source of material

So, we're eating out tonight, and we have a particularly colorful waiter. He first dazzled us with a fascinating story about how he fell asleep after watching some friends play football and woke up 5 MINUTES before his shift started. 5 MINUTES! HILARIOUS!

As he walks away, I start to laugh about how crazy this guy is, when Husband says, "Give him a break. He's an over share-er, like you."

Now, this is totally true. I am infected with the need to overshare. I tell random store clerks and Starbucks baristas my life story, and Husband's as well when he is with me. Pharmicists generally get to enjoy my ENTIRE health history when I pick up my perscriptions. People at church know way too much about our marraige. STILL, comparing me to this guy was just too much.

Later, as he is clearing our plates, Waiter asks if we managed to save any room for dessert.

"No," I say. "We're totally full."

Waiter: "Yeah, I am always trying to sell desserts, but it never happens."

Me: "Well, we're Americans. We overeat."

Waiter: "Yeah, then we all join gyms. Owning a gym must be the easiest job! People always join, but never go."

Me: "Except for this guy." [gesturing to Husband] "He just lost 50 pounds."


[HE HE.]


Waiter: "Yeah, really? That's awesome! I tried to do that once. I kept it off for a while, but then I gained it all back. Not right away, but like over a few years........ [insert 5 minutes of rambling and some weird sound effects mimicking the sound of jiggling fat]. So, that's awesome about your weight loss, man! How did you do it? Exercise? Just getting off your rump?"

Husband: "Yep."

Waiter: "That's awesome!"

So, he leaves with the plates and we are struggling to keep straight faces. I was really proud of Husband for managing to hold it together, considering the bomb I dropped on him. But then Waiter returns with the check.

"Well man, congratulations on your weight loss. That might just inspire me to lose 50 pounds myself!".

Husband smiles until the guy is out of earshot, then says, "This means you will finally write on the blog!"

revealing a new crush

So, we're eating lunch with Motha! and Husband's dad, Mack. Motha! is telling us all about the American Idols Live Tour that she went to last weekend at a new venue in our hometown.

Mack: "So, is that new place getting a lot of good concerts?"

Motha!: "Yeah, the Eagles opened it, and then American Idols Live, and--"

Me: "Isn't the So You Think You Can Dance tour coming there?"

Motha!: "Yes, in October. And Carrie Underwood is coming next month!"

Me: "Oooooh! Tickets! Get tickets!"

Motha!: "I was thinking about it, actually."

Me: "If you get them, get me one! I want to go."

Husband: "Would these be, ummm, front row tickets? Right up close? Where we can see her?"

Motha!: "Why? Why are you so interested in going, HMMMM?"

Mack: "Those sound like some good seats."

Husband: "She's a good singer."

Motha!: "You can hear her JUST FINE from further back."

Me: "Ummm, you can hear her just fine ON THE RADIO."

living your vows

I have this teeny little problem when I drive. I tend to scream (loudly) at other drivers when they do inappropriate things like cut me off, swerve into my lane, or leave their blinker on. Unfortunately, I can't keep myself from doing this even when I am on the phone, and I tend to interrupt myself (and others) with my commentary.

"So, today, my students discussed this essay that talked how-- HEY BUDDY, AM I BOTHERING YOU? I WAS JUST OVER HERE DRIVING IN BETWEEN THE LINES, BUT DON'T LET ME BOTHER YOU WHILST YOU TRY OUT YOUR NEW DRIVING OVER THE LINES TECHNIQUE!"

What's the big deal, right?

This particular habit is really annoying to Husband, so annoying that he has enacted a ban on talking to me while I am driving. Which I was doing this afternoon when he called me. THUS:

"Hi! You called me back!"

"Yeah, I got your message."

"Baaaaaabe, I always have to leave you a sweet message to PROVE that I called since you always say your phone didn't say that I called."

"Yeah, didn't see that one coming."

"So, I'm on my way home."

"You're driving?"

"Yes."

"Gotta go."

"Babe, no! I can do better, I promise! I bet I can go this entire conversation without screaming at other drivers."

"I doubt it."

"Babe, you vowed, 'in sickness and in health.'"

"Yes, this is your sickness."

oh my word this just happened in Target I am not even kidding

So, we're in Target and I need to buy some baby whipes because the vet said I should be cleaning the puppy in between baths. (I know, right? HIGH MAINTENANCE. ) (Like her mommy.) Off we go to the baby section, and we've just turned onto the aisle when Husband starts to act like he's about to break into hives.

"I'm having an anxiety attack."

"Because of the baby aisle? Come on."

"Seriously."

[chuckles deviously] "You mean this doesn't make you excited about having children? Look at these diaper bags. They're so cute! [picks one up and models it] Do you like this one? I promise that we'll get a not-so-girly diaper bag so you won't feel silly carrying it. Do you want to look at this one?"

[HUSBAND'S EYES WIDEN UNTIL IT SEEMS THEY WILL INVOLUNTARILY LEAVE SOCKETS]

"AWWWW! Look at these little baby baths! Can you WAIT until you get to give your child its first bath? Seriously, if that doesn't bring a tear to your eye, you are made of stone."

"We HAVE to get out of here NOW."

"Ok, fine. [Spots aisle of baby clothes.] ONESIES! HOW CUTE!"

[HAS VIOLENT COUGHING FIT]