Category Archives: marriage

yes, that’s my phone ringing…

Posted on August 24, 2011 by wendy| 2 Comments

[Readers, a survey! If you're blogging not about your crazy kids, but your crazy husband, what does that make you? a bitch? a hubbyblogger?]

Let me first say that I am not opposed to personalized ringtones unless they’re stupid or they annoy me.

I, in fact, have a few special ringtones because how can you NOT have the Partridge Family’s I Think I Love You as a ringtone if such an option exists in the Universe??

But, let us set the scene, shall we?

The Hubs loves Becca, our wire-haired pointing griffon (Who’s the most beautiful girl? Who is!? Who is?! Guess who used to be before we got the dog…).

However, we can’t all be perfect like moi just like he doesn’t especially care for my crunching, the Hubs doesn’t like her barking.

A dog? Barking?? What the what?! Color me outraged.

Against my protests, he got her this evil torture device!

A Bark Collar!

Shock treatment on the World’s Most Beautiful Girl??!

By now, you’re probably ahead of me, but imagine my shock when I heard the Hub’s new cell phone ringtone for all incoming calls:

A BARKING DOG.

Pardon me?!

(If the neighbor’s dog isn’t enough, You can go listen here — Barking Dog Ringtone ( Mobile4arab.com ).mp3)

Why would he voluntarily do such a thing?!

His answer?

…because he loves her!

Un-freakin-believable!

Am I missing something here?! Somebody needs to explain this to me…

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Posted in animals, brilliant ideas, education, marriage

Can you listen too well in a relationship?

Posted on July 13, 2011 by wendy| 4 Comments

As you may know by now, the Hubs grew up with wolves in Alaska, roaming the silent woods, hunting, tracking, fishing, baying at the moon, and generally giving an excellent impersonation of Huck Finn.

Whereas, yours truly grew up in residential Dallas, Texas, with curbs and sidewalks, roaming the suburban jungle of malls and movie theaters, eating cookie dough, hiding from the heat, eating cookie dough, and attending every touring band’s a few rock concerts.

So I shouldn’t be surprised that the Hubs has more sensitive hearing than I.

But this last time when he stopped making tuna salad and abruptly left the kitchen as I started to eat potato chips that he bought hello, WHO did WHAT?, I busted him on it.

Oh, sure he claimed he suddenly felt a need to pick up crap in the living major tip-off, but I knew. Oh, I knew.

He walked out because of my eating.

He claims it’s just like my claustrophobia or aerophobia, but given the calm, anxiety-free look in his eyes, I called bullshit politely disagreed.

Then I had a consult with Dr. Google, and together we have now accurately diagnosed the issue as misophonia, or more commonly known as, “Mr. Fussypants.”

Misophonia, literally “hatred of sound”, is a form of decreased sound tolerance, also known as Selective Sound Sensitivity Syndrome or 4S.

Notice dear readers, wiki, master of the universe, does not define it as a phobia, so that settles that, now doesn’t it? Being annoyed does not count, does it anxiety-sufferers??

Sadly, they have found no cure, or even mildly helpful treatments for 4S. Perhaps a telethon with subtitles only?

In the Hubs’ case, the hated sound in question is food crunching.

Which is yet another cruel joke from God unfortunate for him since he married a crunchoholic (how is there no wiki page on that?) who is not afraid to use sex as a weapon.

Yes, my love of crunchy food is only topped by my love of foods you can eat with your hands, preferably in a tortilla-shaped object. Best of all, crunchy food you eat with your hands.

All of which discovery leads us (and by “us,” I mean me and Dr. Google) to conclude that a) the Hubs is a sick puppy with problems untreatable by Dr. Google (gasp!) and b) …okay, I have no “b.” Mainly, sick puppy.

See how self-enlightening it is to be in a longterm relationship? And isn’t it nice to have a label to put on your significant other? I know I feel better.

Now, excuse me because I just found out about a great new Sun Chips flavor, Peppercorn Ranch!

Are you sound sensitive in any way? Or is someone you live with? And are you torturing helping them with their issues?

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Posted in health, marriage, shiny coat

Intimacy 101

Posted on June 23, 2011 by wendy| 7 Comments

Continue reading →

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Posted in brilliant ideas, growth, marriage

Everest? Never-est.

Posted on May 5, 2011 by wendy| 4 Comments

Lately, the Hubs and I under duress have been watching a series called Everest: Beyond the Limit.

Not surprisingly, our reactions to the 14 kajillion episodes are slightly opposite, similar to our housekeeping styles, different.

The Hubs: Isn’t this awesome?! Don’t you wanna go to Base Camp some day??

Me: What is it about giant high altitude latrines mountains that attract complete nutjobs?

The Hubs: You’re kidding, right?

Me: You’re kidding, right??

You understand, readers, don’t you? I mean, I’ve been freezing in my own living room this Aprilary on Bainbridge Island, and he thinks I’d pay a buttload of money to snow camp in minus 3?

And I only feel this strongly because now I’ve seen the video of what happens up there, all kajillion episodes.

High altitude sickness, tent cities, pulmonary adema, cerebral adema, headaches, nausea, frostbite, snow blindess & dying — this is not a list to tempt me for a vacation.

This is an Afghani’s torture options list.

My vacation list goes more like this — oxygen, warmth (but not hot), sun, large bodies of water, boating, outdoor music, cocktails, oxygen, hammocks, Paolo the cabana boy servants, wildlife, fresh food fed to me by Paolo, hikes, kayaks, peace and oxygen.

What does your vacation list look like?

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Posted in Bainbridge Island, WA, brilliant ideas, marriage

Are you a sharer?

Posted on January 31, 2011 by wendy| 5 Comments

There are two kinds of people in this world:
those who share when they order Chinese food and those who don’t.

It can be hard to identify them outside the Chinese food sector. The non-sharers behave practically like everyone else. The shock of discovery can be kinda like finding out your best friend loves lima beans or hates Modern Family.

You what?!

Illustrating the usual sick, twisted sense of humor that God has, these two types often marry each other.

*Ahem*

Girls, learn from my mistake. Add this to your list of Man Requirements and ask, preferably before that first wowser of a kiss so you’re still thinking clearly.

For you non-sharers out there (Hi HUBS!), let me tell you how dining at a Chinese place is supposed to go:
1. Everyone at the table reads the menu.
2. Everyone then discusses the pros and cons, the best combinations, their current hankerings, their arguments for their faves.
3. One person orders while everyone else mentally checks their correctness.
4. When food arrives, everyone shares, plates are passed around, and everyone gets a bit of everything (I’ve even cut egg rolls in half!). You in effect create your own Chinese buffet, custom-ordered.

Voila! Joy! Perfectamundo!

This is how Chinese food dining with non-sharers goes:
1. They silently read the menu.
2. If you’re lucky before the waiter arrives, they ask “What are you having?”
3. You file for divorce.

Yes, God, you are hilarious!

But non-sharers beware! Married to a sharer means that someone will probably be quietly stealing bites from your plate! We sharers have our ways of making you share….

So, confess, my child. Are you a sharer or a non-sharer?

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Posted in brilliant ideas, education, food, marriage

A Tool for Green Tea?

Posted on January 28, 2011 by wendy| 3 Comments

I’ve said it before, the Hubs is a gearhead.

Which made sense when we met and he lived on a big, old wooden boat. That made sense.

But what that 65ft boat hid was the fact that the Hubs would be a gearhead without any reason at all. You can take the work project away from the gearhead but you can’t take the gear….oh, whatever. You know what I’m going for here.

So, he’s transferred his gear curiosity to other venues, such as creme brulee (Yes, an early and obvious choice for a culinary gearhead. Who could resist a tiny torch?!) and later, as we discussed, the electric eraser for his artistic gearhead side.

Now comes a new, albeit unplugged, tool – the chasen!

Isn’t it cute? Who could find a use for resist a tiny, bamboo whisk?

Yes, you common, green-tea-drinking losers out there might be plopping a bag (gasp!) in your cup or dodging loose tea leaves as you sip, but here we whisk our tea.

You have to be drunk shopping online buy a special, fine, powder tea called macha, a special whisk and a bowl (Please don’t tell the Hubs there are actually “tea bowls” out there he could buy!).

You can even go nuts online learning the “right” directions to whisk your tea. Am I right, you tea geeks? Some say a “W” shape but an unconventional “U” shape pattern with wrist flick makes certain rebels happy…

And, omg, after living 10 years with this gearhead, I believe our healthy green tea could be made even better swirled in a spiral pattern while adding cold vodka.

Have you tried macha tea?

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Posted in brilliant ideas, food, life is good, marriage

all i want for Christmas is….

Posted on December 23, 2010 by wendy| 5 Comments

This is sad and I’m obviously not ashamed to mention it, but here goes—

All I want for Christmas is….

my side of the garage back!!

Let’s start from the very beginning a very good place to start if you’ve been watching Sound of Music like me.

The Beginning.
My mom met my dad at church. Not that beginning.

Over eight years ago, the Hubs and I looked at houses on Bainbridge Island.
waterfront
Not those kinda houses.
house
Yeah, that’s more like it.

But besides Fenced Yard For Dog, we wanted a Two-Car Garage.

Now, marriage is a crazy house institution, what with two adults trying to cohabitate contentedly f-o-r-e-v-e-r. Even given all that time together, many things are never said.

Many things are assumed, many basic things…

For instance, I thought that these common desires meant we were aligned in thought — the dog would go in the yard and the cars, or at least MY car, would go in the garage.

And it did. At first except the dog went in the bed, but that has been pointed out as my fault.

But a couple or twelve house projects later, next thing I knew my car had been evicted, in broad daylight, without a hint of due process.

Nay, without a single word.

The Hubs has since tried to convince me, using his best teenager tone, that no one else we know uses their garage for cars.

Let’s remember this for when the Kid wants to stay out past midnight or buy a BMW or summer in France with the tres chic island kids…

But, this story is gonna end well. Why? Because yours truly is a saint for Christmas the Hubs is clearing out my side of the garage! Yahooooo!

I’ll believe it when I see it.

Yes, Wendy, there is a Santa Claus.

santa
And from all of us at Let the dog in!, here’s wishing you a Happy Christmas filled with joy, love and your very, own parking space!

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Posted in brilliant ideas, life is good, marriage

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