spouse

21 Questions I Asked My Husband

I’m stealing this one from Eric at All In A Dad’s Work (see his post here), because a) I always steal his ideas and stuff and b) it’s funny. (Truthfully, he encouraged us to ask the questions, too, so I guess it’s not technically stealing, but I’m trying to work on having a more badass reputation in the blogiverse.)

Here goes, the 21 questions I asked Sam…

Q: Would you rather I be completely hairless or as hairy as a gorilla?
A: Completely hairless.

Q: What actor would play you in a movie about your life?
A: Mark Ruffalo.

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Q: Who would play your love interest (aka, me) in a movie about your life?
A:  Emily Deschanel.

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Q: Would you rather our children grow up to be 8 feet tall or 3 feet tall?
A: 8 feet tall.

Q: If you had to go a week without your phone, what would you miss the most about it?
A: Nothing because I don’t have a phone.

Q: What do you like most that I do in bed?
A: When you sleep without touching me.

Q: What was your first impression of me? Did you ever dislike me?
A: I was glad you weren’t 80-years old. No.

Q: What’s your favorite memory of our wedding day?
A: Seeing you walk down the aisle.

Q: If you woke up tomorrow as a woman, what would be the first three things you’d do?
A: Make my husband some breakfast, lay out his clothes, and put out his newspaper. No, I have no idea how to answer this. I’d do the same thing I’d always do — help get the kids ready, eat breakfast, and check Facebook.

Q: Would you rather use whipped cream or hot fudge?
A: Whipped cream.

Q: What do you think is your best physical feature?
A: I don’t know anymore. It used to be my chest. I still have nice eyes.

Q: What do you think is my best physical feature?
A: Your legs.

Q: If you could be on any reality TV show, which one would it be?
A: I don’t know any that are still on.

Q: Have you ever obsessed over anything? (toys, movies, projects, people, problems)
A: I obsess over stuff every day. Right now it’s the soccer team I want to coach in the spring and the soccer team on the FIFA playstation game.

Q: What were your nicknames growing up, including the ones you didn’t want to stick?
A: Razor, skint turd, RJ the BJ, Gay Ray Dolphin.

Q: If I let you dress me, what would I wear on our next date?
A: Nothing. I’m just kidding. A skirt or a dress instead of wearing pants all the time.

Q: Would you ever role play in bed?
A: Sure.

Q: Yoga pants or skirts?
A: Skirts.

Q: What song would you sing for your audition on The Voice?
A: In the Garden, it’s a gospel song.

Q: Is there a food that reminds you of me?
A: Pizza.

Q: Is there a memory you have of me that always makes you laugh?
A: You peeing in a cooler when you were drunk.

Yeah, the last one probably deserves an explanation, but just know that I was 20, a new drinker, and it was a throwaway foam cooler.

So, who else is down to ask their partner 21 questions?

 

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Finding The Hat

While cleaning out some stuff pushed to the back of our wardrobe last week, my husband found his baseball cap. It’s a gray University of South Carolina Gamecocks baseball hat (for our 2011 College World Series win) that gives him permission to yell “Go Cocks!” or otherwise loudly talk about “The Cocks” wherever he goes without being looked at too strangely.

Here’s what it looked like brand new. Little Man has one just like it that I bought on sale that he’s been waiting to grow into for quite some time. Sam’s hat barely resembled this one after a few years of being worn regularly.

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“E! I found my hat! I thought I’d lost it, but it has been here all this time!” he exclaimed after he pulled it out. He put it on and admired himself in the mirror.

I gave him a fake smile. “Good for you,” I said flatly.

He noticed my lack of enthusiasm (and possibly the light leaving my eyes) and quickly realized that I was the reason his hat had been missing.

“You hid it! I can’t believe you hid my hat from me! That’s so wrong!”

Did I mention that this hat is from 2011? Do you know what a hat looks like after it’s been worn everywhere for five years? In case you don’t, it looks like garbage. Even worse, it smells like garbage. (Reminder: he works from home, meaning he rarely has to wear grown-up clothes…meaning wears baseball hats a lot more than the average guy.)

“I only hid it because I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away,” I stated. This is true. I would’ve had the guilt had I thrown out something I know he loves. So I did the only thing I could do without crossing the line — hid it somewhere I knew he likely wouldn’t look.

After some back and forth over whether the hat belonged in the garbage, I gave in and decided that if I was going to have to continue seeing and smelling the damn thing on a daily basis, that I’d make it less disgusting. (Sure, I suppose I could have done that sooner, but he was supposed to come to his senses and throw the dirty old thing away.)

So, here is the hat after I threw it in the dishwasher, as I read that’s a good way to wash a hat, and it sure wasn’t getting hand-washed treatment. (No, I didn’t wash any dishes with it, in case you’re wondering. We would have surely gotten some illness, despite the sani-rinse.)


Yep, that’s the hat on the best day it’s seen in quite some time. It still looks dirty and like it’s about to fall apart at any minute. Sam was also really happy that I did something thoughtful for him in cleaning up his hat. I pointed out that it wasn’t for him, and after noticing that it shrunk up a bit when he put it back on, let him know what he looked like, A League Of Their Own style.

What thing have you wanted to throw out of your partner’s?

It’s Getting Hot In Here

Winter has now arrived in South Carolina. Or it’s visiting at least. I know this because I went outside today in a long sleeve shirt and felt like I needed a jacket. Laziness prevented me from going back inside for the jacket, but still, I needed it…and I got to turn on the heat in the car! After a winter break that shifted between balmy and monsoon-like, we had temperatures drop to almost freezing overnight and they didn’t get over 43°F today.*

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Do you know what all this means? Aside from even more colds and getting to wear super cute jackets? That trouble is brewing in the Anxious household. We don’t often fight about money or how we raise the kids (irresponsibility for the win!), but we do butt heads on the thermostat. My husband has already complained at least five times about how hot I’ve made it inside.

“You turned the thermostat up to 69?”

“You’ve got a space heater on?”

“The other space heater is on?”

“Oh my god, the space heater is set to 79!”

“Why do you want the [gas] logs on when you’ve got both space heaters on?!”

For the record, Baby Girl and I were taking a bath and it gets cold in that part of the house where our master bedroom/bath are thanks to shit duct work, so I tend to make things warmer than I normally would. This means three extra sources of heat instead of two. You can’t have a little baby (or a grown woman) getting out of bath water to freeze half to death before getting dried off and into her PJs. Yes, I totally played the Baby Girl Card, and I’m prepared to do so for weeks to come.

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Sam’s preferred thermostat setting for the colder months is 64, and he continues his the madness into the summer by trying to burn us up by setting the air conditioner on 76 (although I’ve seen higher). I’m the opposite–I like things nice and cozy in the winter and frigid in the summer. I’m a power bill payer’s worst nightmare.

Here’s to another few weeks/months of arguing over the indoor temperature. And maybe even a few snow flurries!

*You people with all your snow and ice better not poo poo on my winter post.

Blue Hair Don’t Care

My husband, whose blog you can check out and leave hate messages here, has what I consider outdated views on women and hair. Specifically, women’s hair.

Example: my best friend, who is 35, got her hair cut rather short recently. It was really long, platinum blonde, and now it’s about chin length with some auburn highlights. When I saw her, I told her how good it looked, because it did.

My husband to my friend: “Your hair looks great! It’s really age appropriate now.”

Silence. Deadly looks were given.

“Well, thanks, I’m glad you think it’s age appropriate, Sam,” she told him in a steely voice.

He still doesn’t understand why that was an inappropriate thing to say, nor does he get why turning 30 doesn’t mean that a woman is forbidden from wearing her hair past her chin and having any color. And for any men reading this blog, just know that it is inappropriate, okay? No explanation should be needed here.

Fast forward to the past few days–I’ve been talking about doing something with my hair since it’s been at least six months since I had a trim. I’ve been wanting to get a little color added for years, ever since my stepsister had a few blue streaks in her hair, and I loved it. At the time, I thought that I was too old to do this since I was a mom in my mid to late 20s.

Well, I’m over 30 now and got some blue streaks put in my hair today. So bite me, age.

My husband “encouraged” me not to get the blue streaks. “You’re too old for that. It’s blue. That won’t look good.”

When I got home to proudly show of my new cut and blue, yet subtle, streaks, he said, “Well, it doesn’t look as bad as I thought it would.”

To which I say (not in front of the kids):

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In case you were wondering about the opinions of the rest of the family, Little Man was rather upset about it. “But you’re a mom! And your hair is blue! It’s not supposed to be!” He got over this in about two minutes, when he told me that he was really upset that we wouldn’t be “hair twins” anymore.

I fixed that with some dye that we had from last year when he wanted a blue mohawk that washes out in the shower, so yay, hair twins once again.

Baby Girl doesn’t seem to give a crap. I’m still “Woman With Milk” to her–no judgment.

Now I may go absolutely wild and paint my fingernails, something I haven’t done in 2-3 years. 😉