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Tomorrow is Mike’s birthday! I have a special birthday post ready for him tomorrow, but today I decided to share with you why he makes me insane. My wonderful husband and I have been married for five years. We have been together for almost eleven. Wow…eleven? Is that right? Wow. Anyway, in our relationship I feel the good certainly outweighs the bad, so before I continue with my list of top ten annoying things about my husband, I want to make sure that everyone knows how much I love him, how fantastic he truly is and how I cannot imagine my life with anyone other than him. I firmly believe you will never find a person that you love completely, never argue with, who does only what you want them to do and is perfect in every way. It is all about finding someone who has that one particular brand of annoying shit that you are able to deal with. Everyone has annoying shit. It just depends on how much of someone else’s you are willing to excuse. So, here are the top ten annoying things my husband does that I am willing to deal with. Would you be?
1. He spits.
My husband will spit on the ground for no reason what so ever. I don’t even know if he realizes that he does it anymore. Gross.
2. He refuses to separate laundry.
I cannot tell you how may times in eleven years I have explained the importance of separating colors from whites, towels from dress clothes and rags from everything! He knows. He doesn’t care. I will go to empty the washer and find my black dress pants covered in towel lint and his white (now grey) T-shirt wrapped around a pair of dark denim jeans. I secretly hope that he will completely ruin one of his favorite articles of clothing by doing this. I don’t bother saying anything anymore because discussing it has done absolutely nothing for years.
3. He always has the remote.
I will be in the middle of watching one of “my” shows, enjoying having the freedom of volume control and fast forwarding through the commercials, when couch commando sits down, snatches the remote and holds it hostage. He doesn’t necessarily change anything, he just holds the control. Effectively removing control from me. So now if I have to pee and need to pause, I have to ask him to do it. Annoying.
4. He waits until the very end of the line to merge.
I feel as if I should hang my head out of the car window and apologize to every driver I see sitting patiently in line to enter the freeway, while my husband blows past all of them and then cuts in at the very last second. Yes, he is “that guy.” I realize that this is faster and no one wants to be the patient guy sitting in line for ever, but cuts are cuts, and it is so rude! So, sorry everyone waiting their turn…it isn’t me, it’s my husband.
5. He won’t touch a door handle.
Slightly germ-a-phobic, my husband will never be that nice man holding the door for a stream of people entering a building. He will not be the guy jogging ahead so he can grab the door so you can maneuver your stroller through it. He is the opposite guy. He will slow down and allow someone else to hold the door, he will nudge the automatic door opener button for handicapped people at every opportunity and has been guilty of letting a door close in my face a number of times rather than touch that disease ridden handle and hold it open.
6. Every tiny ailment is a near death experience.
A sniffle, a sore, a bump, an ache or pain is cause for major drama and weeks of complaining in my house. I am nice at first, when he points out his ailment. I offer suggestions on how to treat it, or make him comfortable. I reassure him that whatever it is, is common and not to worry. This is never good enough. I hear about the discomfort, the agony, the likelihood that he will probably die from it until whatever it is heals (generally in the exact amount of time I tell him it will in the beginning.) By the third day, I stop replying, and I tune him out. It is important to note that he NEVER takes any of my advice about treatment, because complaining is obviously more fun than relief. (Since I wrote this, he suspects his slightly blurry vision, probably coming from the need to change his contact lenses, is macular degeneration. Seriously.)
7. He has ZERO sympathy for me when I am sick or injured.
I think because he feels that his “devastating illnesses” (see above) are so horrible, I couldn’t possibly be feeling the same or worse – ever. Never mind that I just pushed a seven pound HUMAN out of my VAGINA, I still managed to walk all around Las Vegas three days later showing off the sights to his visiting family. There was no offer of pillow fluffing and perineum soothing techniques for me, by the way. I’m sure post labor pain holds no candle to that sore inside of his nostril that I heard about all winter long.
8. Paper towel…everywhere.
He’s addicted. He uses paper towel for everything. Clean dishtowel near the sink? Nope, he’s using paper towel instead. Scrubby sponge to clean the counter tops? No, paper towel. He tears it into the size that he likes for the job he is doing and tends to leave little (and big) squares of paper towel all over the house.
9. He thinks my need for vegetables is ridiculous.
I love pizza as much as the next guy. I can eat chicken nuggets and French fries in a pinch on a night that dinner just isn’t coming together, and I’m cool with it. I cannot, and do not want to eat meat and potatoes (or pasta, or rice) exclusively for days on end! I need to have something green in my diet on a regular basis. Our son needs to eat balanced meal. Professionals will tell you that this is normal and healthy. Corn cannot be the main vegetable at the dinner table all of the time. These reasons are laughable and ridiculous to my husband. He rolls his eyes and sighs at me when I suggest grabbing some broccoli to go with whatever pre-packaged dinner he has suggested. I’m obviously way out of line here…
10. When it comes to parenting, he thinks he has it rough.
He gets the poopiest diapers, he handles the worst temper tantrums, he wakes up the most in the night…according to him. He is a fantastic Dad. He does not mind pulling his weight when it comes to the dirty jobs of parenting. But that doesn’t mean that he does those jobs quietly. I hear about how horrific the diaper change he just did was and how I need to do the next one, because, you know…I have never had to clean poop off of the baby, changing table, floor and my own body before. Oh, poor dear hubby, I know it was sooo rough for that three minutes last night when you just fell asleep and the baby cried and you rolled over and said. “Ooohhhh God…” and then promptly started snoring. If I told you what happened next, you would think I was a real drama queen and probably never believe me. Let’s just say I listened to and watched you sleep peacefully for three hours straight while I nursed, burped, changed, rocked, patted, and shushed our bundle of midnight-loving joy. You farted and laughed about it (even in your sleep, farts are funny.) snored with gusto, stole one of my pillows and threw your leg over my side of the bed with reckless abandon. I almost punched you right in the face. I didn’t, but if I hear about how tired you are tomorrow, I might.

I do love you my sweet, loyal and amazing husband. One day I’ll write the top ten reasons my husband is the best, but for now this is why you annoy the hell out of me sometimes. I wouldn’t however, have it any other way.
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