Da Man

You thought I'd post about my youngest, right? I will, but first I must post about my husband. He likes to be referred to as "Da Man." Sometimes I refer to him as "Dumb Man" and he will still respond. When I first married him, I thought he had a flushing problem cause he would always leave pee in the toilet. Confronting him about this situation Da Man admitted to a silly game he invented called pee racing. Apparently it involves flushing and peeing at the same time and trying to pee faster than the water flushes. He apparently lost. A lot. After stressing that the toilet seat must be returned in the proper position and flushing should occur after he has relieved himself, I hoped that this problem was solved. Thirteen years later, he's still pee racing and leaving the toilet seat up. To relieve some of my nagging, I had relegated him to his own bathroom downstairs, but he refuses to limit himself to his own space, instead determined to share himself with all four of the house toilets. He must be free to do his business whereever and whenever the need arises.

Da Man also suffers from foot in mouth disease. One of our babysitters is a young (early 20s) very attractive woman who used to be the preschool teacher for my older daughters. She recently informed us that she is engaged to be married. This reminds me of a situation that occurred last year. One night she had been babysitting and she had lost some weight and cut her hair. My husband enthusiastically complimented her with what I thought was overkill. AFter she went home I commented to my husband that she had looked great, to which he responded again with over enthusiastic abandon. Peeved I asked him if he thought she were prettier than me, to which he responded. "Well, she is really pretty, but she's no where near as pretty as you... when you were her age..." (Oh no he didn't!) There was absolute silence as hubby continued to watch another Dave Chapelle show episode for the 100th time. "When I was her age?" I asked. Da Man, still oblivious to the danger, "Yeah, you were way hotter than her when you were in your 20s." I slowly cracked my knuckles. "So, I was hot, but now I'm not?" Da Man, still watching the screen, "Not like you used to be." (Oh yes he did!!) All of a sudden he realized what he just said and turned to look at me. I think I must have looked like Medusa because I swear Da Man froze for a good solid minute. "Oh come on! I was just kidding! You know I think your hot! You are absolutely hot! Hotter than you ever were before. Honey?" You see, this is where Da Man becomes Dumb Man, because even if it is true, it's one of those things you don't say to the wife. A far more appropriate answer would have been, you were as pretty as she was when you were her age but prettier to me now more than ever. The issue isn't if I'm prettier than my babysitter, but am I still attractive to my husband. His answer made me feel that I no longer was.

When the Dumb man finally realized his mistake, it was too late to take back what he had said. The damage was done. I would await my moment of utter revenge. I thought, what would I do? He may find some of his fishing reels surprisingly low on line, his basketball sadly deflated, a small circular patch of baldness on the top of his head, none of them really appealed to me, except the shaving his head thing but that was too messy. So what could I do? It happened when we went to see the movie 300, which I loved. I love violent action movies not for the gratuitous violence, but for the rush of excitement from a well done battle scene, and 300 had great battle scenes. It also had the most beautiful 6 pack abs on that absolute beefcake Gerard Butler. I think I drooled my mouth dry staring at his body and admiring his overacting. The moment of revenge came when we walked out of the theater and I started loudly proclaiming my love for Gerard Butler's body. When Da Man started to look irritated, I said, "You know that actor is only a few years younger than you are." And patting Da Man's soft belly, I said, "maybe you should start working out again." I enjoyed watching him suck in his gut for the rest of the night! And I get the added benefit of watching him start back on his weight lifting regimen.
All that lifting apparently gives you brain damage. It must be why weight lifters are usually not the brightest bulbs. The blood drains out of their heads and into their bulging muscles straining against the heavy weights. Either that or there is another explanation for stupidity. August 20th was our 13th wedding anniversary. Apparently the tradition with the 13th anniversary is that you are supposed to forget all about it. Did you know that? I didn't either. So I thought I would see how long you were supposed to forget the 13th for. Turns out you forget it for as long as your wife doesn't remind you about it and then you panic like a little girl and run away to check the internet to see what nasty stuff your wife has blogged about you for your inexcusable lapse of judgment which was compounded by taking a defensive position and asking where his anniversary present was. Uhhhhhh, your anniversary present is that I didn't kill you after my third pregnancy. That present is a holdover until our youngest starts college. And even if I did have an anniversary present, I wouldn't give it to you because YOU FORGOT OUR ANNIVERSARY!

So I will enjoy thinking of all sorts of evil retaliatory measures I might dream up until such time as an appropriately acceptable diamond gift is received by me as is my due for having borne his children and stayed by his side through the good, the bad and the flatulent.

If you think of any good punishments, feel free to let me know!