I Am My Wife's Lil-Bitch
Tuesday, April 20, 2010 at 6:33AM I’m a schmuck and my wife knows it.
Her favorite past-time? Watching me jibber jabber my way into a spike-filled corner only to realize too late that I’m bleeding from 30 different places and crying for mercy.
Now that I’ve tipped you off as to how this is going to end, let me begin my story…
I used to commute on the Metra train into the city for my last jobby job. I enjoyed the mile-long walk except days when my nose hairs froze solid or old-lady Gertrude’s teenage snow shovel-boy decided to take the day off. Other than that, it was my time to listen to damn good tunes, people-watch, and occasionally “accidentally” miss a train so I could squeeze-in a quick beer at the Union Station bar.
Now, I drive three days a week along the paved toll-road pathway to the west filling my mornings and afternoons with NPR, good tunes, and views of ladies putting on make-up, guys picking boogers, and the occasional douche camped out in the left lane going the speed limit.
But the most important thing about that last paragraph was the word "toll-road."
Yeah, I have to stop to pay a toll two times each way every time I go into work. Now, they do make this amazing little magic box called an “IPass” that attaches to your windshield and automatically deducts the toll amount from your bank account so you never have to slow down or stop at a toll booth.
When we first moved to Illinois the wife didn’t work at a job…instead, she had the lowest-paying, most difficult job there is—stay-at-home-mom. One weekend after going through a toll road with her I said, “hey, I heard you can buy an IPass at the grocery store. Next time you go you think you can snag us one?”
I did all I could with that sentence…I used positive words…words like “snag,” “us,” “next time”—seemed harmless.
But what the wife heard was, “hey wife that I own and tell what to do all the time. Go fetch us a toll booth thingy now…and take the kids and fucking like it! And while you’re there, wrestle us some food and beer woman!!!”
Months passed and the IPass never came to fruition. Weekends passed where we’d roll-up to toll booths with no change or cash. We’d blow through them only to frantically go online days later hoping we hadn’t missed the deadline to pay them.
The “fuck you, you do it” dance had begun.
The wife didn’t want to feel like she was being “told” to go do something. I wasn’t going to give in and go buy it myself because…well, because I’m a guy and I never give in.
Except for that time I painted every wall in our entire house…all 1,700 square feet of it and asked the wife if she’d just toss some paint on the spindles going upstairs. Four years later we go to sell the house and who was on HIS hands and knees along the stairs holding a paint brush?
And this was no different. This past week I filled out the paperwork online for an IPass, pressed the “submit” button, all the while knowing damn well what the true meaning of the “submit” button meant in this case.
Twelve years and you’d think I would have learned my lesson by now. You’d think I’d know not to fight battles I know damn well I’m going to lose. You’d think I’d know when to give in because at the end of the day…I’m just slowly backing myself into a corner filled with pointy, sharpy things while the wife kicks back, Shiraz in hand, pointing, laughing, and patting herself on the back and saying, “you silly silly man.”
Reader Comments (38)
Yup, been there done that. Waiting for the other one to do it. Only in our case, usually no one does it. Or I do it and don't tell HIM, and I keep whatever it is to myself. Ahhh the dance we dance!
Nice job pussy. ;) My husband and I settle most of these situations with Rock, Paper, Scissor. And oral sex.
Big Red and I do that dance too. I'm not asking because I think you have nothing to do! I am asking because it needs to get done. Wanna see blood boil??? When I ask if it's done...respond with "not yet." That will get you a junk punch in the middle of the night, with brass knuclkes and a rusty saw!
Where you were wrong: It was your job that moved you to IL, so it was YOUR job to get the EZ Pass. Just sayin'. By the way, do you know you wasted a lot of beer/tat/American Girl money by paying the full-toll price? Tell Wifey you were wrong. In the end you'll have an EZ Pass and maybe some sex.
That's F'ing funny. I, myself, would never do the "fuck you, you do it" dance with my husband. Just for the simple fact that I don't work. I am a stay at home mom who homeschools her kids and if he really wanted to play the "fuck you, you do it" dance with me, he could tell me to get to steppin' and carry my ass on out of here. Self preservation is my marraige councelor.
OK.. I was laughing so hard *I* was crying.. You really need to come over here and teach my husband a thing or two. You would think after 15 years he would have figured it out by now?? I guess some just learn faster than others ;)
When in doubt.. consult Leslie!!
Kinda works the opposite in our house. I'll tell @pshouseblog to do something that needs to be done usually if I hold my ground and nag the hell out of her shell cave and do whatever it is. But 80% of the time the nagging isn't worth it it's just easier to pile it on & get it done.
Ahh the 'stand-off' happens often in this house. DH may have won the buying shelves battle that lasted a few months, *I* wanted shelves therefore *I* should go buy them, but I'm pretty sure I won the 'who will give in and fill up the soap dispenser in our bathroom' war.
LOL, this is awesome!!!
Ah...best summed up in one word...submit.
you are the husband.
just do it and don't complain.
and rub her feet while you're at it!
(and i think blogspot blogs aren't allowed in your 'url' thingy - just wondering if that's true)
This stand off should be part of the wedding vows because it will happen. I do this with my husband but it is usually me who submits because he just has more staying power. I just want things done. I think from now on I'll do like the Lady of the House and settle these with oral sex. Seems easier and I may get better results.
You should wear the "Tapout" shirt with pride you douche. Man has no business trying to make women do anything they dont want to do. I normally get the "O Rly!?!?" look followed by the junk punch and tears of joy it wasnt her stilettos to the shins. If Im good she lets out the gimp and we play kick ball.
I'm a little pussy ass bitch to her.
Get a new wife...
Women! you can't live with 'em, you can't douse them with kerosene and torch 'em. Best advice: FUCK 'em, Then forget 'em. On second, though, just forget 'em.
Life is nothing but one hassle, bullshit, pain in the ass followed by another, ad nauseam. And to add to the shit pile you are hit in the face daily by the putrid stench of arrogant self-serving dousche-bag assholes, along with their stupid cunt female counterparts. Human kind has absolutely no appreciable value to anything except their own deterioration. There has to be at least some small microscopic glint of hope that we will eventually bring about our own demise if Mother Nature can't get it done directly. Looking around somedays, it seems practically inevitable.
Dude. Pittsburgh Pa Bitch man here. God.... I loved reading your posts. I really thought i was the only person who was suck a fuckin push over. I love my wife, I word my sentences days in advance. I practice them on friends at work. At I still get told I am selfish, living in my college days, she's not my mother. Ive been on my own since 18, I know how to cook, clean, iron and so on. Yet after I am done vacuuming, dusting, dishes, and laundry, I will say, Hey honey can u get me a beer? this is of course when she is in the fridge, and she goes off for a half horur how I want her to do everything for me. Fuck me man...........and its only been 7 years
I feel for you. Wicked Sharp Mike. I left work early today to pick up our son. My wife worked till 8 and got home at nine. She came home and did her thing till the kid needed to be fed. I watched the end of a show (15 minutes) and then was making myself something for dinner. In the middle of eating she starts asking me to do stuff - change the kids diaper, put on his pj's, get the medicine (he's teething). Okay, I did it all. She puts the kid to sleep and then tells me that she's going to bed in 15 minutes and I have to take the recycling out, the garbage out and I need to empty the diaper genie. I ask her if she could empty the diaper genie while I take everything else out. She starts bitching about how she just wants 15 minutes of "me" time before bed. We argue for 10 minutes about this - about 8 minutes longer than if she would have just shut the hell up and emptied it.
I love being married. Just not tonight.
i asked her to help me to stop smokin pot, she replied very loving and said she would and said she understood that i needed her help. i felt good after that talk, but then the next day fucking came! it all went to shit, i just needed to not be pushed over the edge, and that bitch pushed me. i do get excited easily, and realize this so i try to calm down, and i can calm down. Until she starts, she wont let me be alone when im mad, she yells and screams and doesnt stop, my heart rate explodes and my head hurts. A loving spouse would understand, and not push those boundries. i have 3 kids and dont want to leave, but she doesnt understand what im asking. i cant open up tp her. shes fucked it all up, and its hard to care now!