Tag Archives: parenting

My Husband is Cocky Stubborn and Relentless |What’s Wrong with Yours

We all have those little things that irk us about our spouses.  Some women tell me that their husbands are too involved in every little decision around the house, making buying a new chair harder than getting your toddler to try broccoli.  Some women tell me their spouse’s are so tight with money that they can’t buy a ribbed tank without a budget discussion.  Well, neither of those are Mark.  For the most part he’s hands off when it comes to decisions and purchases (yay for me).  No, mine is an obstinate man with a desire to do everything in the easiest quickest way… with little remorse to boot.

Yesterday while dropping my son at a friend’s house he decided to tailgate the guy in front of him to get through the guard gate.  G-d forbid he waits in the line like an average Joe.  No, he has places to go and people to see.  BTW I,  (nagging wife) have warned him that this habit would end in damage to his car.  To which he has assured me the gates will stay open for him.  I mean don’t they know who he is?!?  Hello?

Well, this gate’s bar didn’t get said memo and slammed down just in time for him to crash into it, leaving it hanging from it’s hinge.  Oh, that’ll show that ignorant bar.

Guard: Sir, could you please get out of the car, we need to write up a report and call the police.

Stubborn Husband:  For what? I used my sensor and it didn’t work.

Guard (authoritatively, as if he had turned down a job with the police force for this.): Sir, you tailgated the car before you in.

Mark: (Who is now fighting as if he actually believes his own bullshit.) No, your gate closed on my car.

Guard: Nooo, your car crashed into my gate.

(I imagine this went on a bit like a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups commercial:  You got your chocolate in my peanut butter.  Noooo you got your peanut butter on my chocolate.)

Well, it ended with my willful hubby refusing to get out of the car and defiantly driving through the gate to drop off my son, who was now crying about what was sure to be his daddy’s pending arrest.

Is he nuts?  Do rules not apply to him?  Why do men feel the need to fight (and win) every argument? This is why I spend much of my time Googling things.  ‘Cause my hubby is so freakin’ sure of anything that comes out of his own mouth.  He looks at himself the way people look at gossip mags.  He thinks, “If I say it… it must be true.”

Here are some of his doozy’s “No, you can’t get zits from dirty pillowcases Jenny, that’s insane.”  “Thanksgiving is ALWAYS on the 28th of November.”  “Ferngully (1992) was the first full length animated movie that wasn’t made by Disney.” What’s crazy is that somehow through unwavering tenacity he convinces other people to second guess what they know to be true… or he causes them to want to pull their hair out in frustration.  Either way, it’s a win for him.

What, you don’t believe me?  Case in point:   “This is the same man who talked a police officer out of giving him a ticket for driving in the HOV (high occupancy vehicle) lane through adamant denial that he had stopped the wrong car.  As Mark says, “I planted a kernel of doubt.”

Mark:  Why did you pull me over? Was I speeding?

Policeman:  No, You were in the HOV lane.

Mark:  What?  I think you have the wrong guy.

Policeman:  You’re what we call a jumper, you pull in and out and I watched you pull out.

Mark:  Yeah, that wasn’t me.  I’ve been in this lane the whole time.  It must have been another black car (accused hubby, as if the cop was car profiling.)

Policeman:  Nope, it was your black car.  I saw you with my own two eyes, plus I’ve got it on camera.

Mark:  Well, check it and you’ll see you’re wrong (said cocky husband banking that he wouldn’t). Haven’t you ever made a mistake? (He continued)

Policeman:  Oh, I have, but I didn’t this time.

Sweet Lovable Man O’Mine:  Well, with all due respect, that’s the thing about mistakes; it wouldn’t be a mistake if you knew you were making it.  (I know you’re jealous that he’s not yours right about now.)

Policeman:  With all due respect, I don’t need a vocabulary lesson.

After more arguing and the writing of a citation my brilliant husband walked out of  his car on the side of a highway and approached the policeman with ticket in hand saying thus:  “I’m just very uncomfortable with getting a ticket for something I didn’t do.”

The policeman (in what I imagine to be shock) looked him in the eye, swiped the ticket out of his hand and said, “I’m going to rip this ticket up because you are the most persistent  mother fucker I’ve ever run into.  Now don’t do it again!”

Lesson learned:  If you deny relentlessly, you will be rewarded!

So, you wanna know what happened with the guard gate?  Hubs returned to the scene of the crime to find the police waiting for him.  Oh, I wish I were kidding you.

Guard: Sir, this is property damage and we need to write up a report.

Mark:  Well, your gate was clearly not working as it didn’t read my sensor.

Guard:  Sir, you tailgated we have it on camera.

Mark:  Then you should check the footage.  You would see I was trying to use my sensor. (he seems to think checking the camera is a whole to-do or I assume he would stop suggesting people do it.)

Guard:  May, I see your sensor?

Mark then proceeded to take out the Liftmaster 2000 clicker that came with our house.  It’s kinda like someone asking for ID and you showing them your Blockbuster card.

Guard: (with policeman snickering in the background) Sir, you’re showing me a 1960’s style garage door opener… I can’t imagine that you got it confused with our sensor.

In the end, it cost him $250, and you know what?  It was worth every penny.   And trust me, I’d like to put those pennies towards groceries or school supplies or a pair of stilettos.

Me: (smugly avoiding saying ‘I told ya so’)  Well honey, did you learn anything today?

Mark:  Yeah, don’t tailgate at Weston Hills

I want my $250 back!

Feel free to share this with your friends, it’ll make them feel better! And follow the fun on Facebook!

BTW – it’s MARK WEEK here and on Facebook in honor of Mark and I making it to our 15th anniversary (almost) without one of us answering a lot of questions across the desk from a suspicious detective sitting in front of a two way mirror, I’ve been putting up some of my favorite MARK stories. 

(Note, he is usually annoying in them and always wrong, it’s not that he doesn’t do amazing thoughtful sweet stuff — it’s just that, that stuff isn’t funny.)

You May Like: I Can Be Such a Bitch, But Sometimes My Husband Deserves It (At least, that’s what I tell myself).

XO  -Jenny From the Blog

The Best or Worst Ideas For Your Letters to Camp – Not Sure Which

tumbleweedDear Readers (Day 19 – 24 at Camp Lenox),

As we all know, the best ideas are generated during periods of total and utter boredom. Also, in the shower but there’s never anything to write with so, I imagine lots of great inventions are washed down the drain. Like time machines and renewable toxic waste…

Well, this is one of those brilliant ideas that I dreamed up and had the good fortune to get on paper. PHEW.

BTW, someone needs to invent a pad and pen that you can write with in the shower…

With the advent of camp emails and bunk notesit’s never been easier to keep in constant contact with your camper. Unfortunately, it’s you contacting them and not so much them contacting you. I should know, spending this summer at camp, I realize that my own great intentions to write letters were squashed by one of my other great intentions —  to enjoy camp. Yes, speaking in your camper’s defense, camp is tiring and non-stop, and like being on a constant roller coaster — the last thing anyone wants to do is screech all that fun/energy to a halt to write an update. Also, so much happens in a day that when anyone does sit down to write it’s almost daunting to try to recap, hence the one liners: “Camp is fun.”  

That said, I get the plight of the parent as well. Unless you’re rock climbing, getting up on water skis for the first time, tipping canoes, having bonfires, talent shows or raucous games of Name That Tune around the house, the whole we write you and get nothing in return is an oxymoronic phenomenon. Continue reading

Camp Phone Calls Could End My Marriage

Who knew the highly anticipated camp phone calls could be such a blow to a relationship? Oh well, when my baby is 1500 miles away from home, and I get a few minutes to talk — It’s every man, ahem mom, for herself!

Camp Phone Calls Could Ruin My Marriage #camp #sleepaway #humor

It’s sleepaway camp time and everyone is getting their calls from the kiddos. I’ve found a pattern, in that I desperately want to strangle my husband after each call. Luckily for me (and not so much my husband), I’m apparently not alone.

Look, us moms are ready. We’ve stayed up until the wee hours waiting for the pictures to download — sometimes hitting “refresh” every minute, (and by minute I mean second) as they download one at a time. We’ve studied them like highly trained CIA agents, analyzing their smiles, their friends, their body language. Continue reading

iCan Not iStand the Apple Store

iCan't iStand The iApple Store - We Have a Love Hate Relationshipi Have an iLove iHate Relationship with the Apple Store. (A little Apple Store humor for frustrated customers who really kinda love that place, like me.)

Last week, I took a trip to the Apple store.  Oh, the Apple store.  It’s like a Dylan’s Candy Bar for adults.  Like it’s namesake, in the Garden of Eden, or in the hands of Snow White’s evil stepmother, APPLE was so inviting… so enticing.  There it was, in all of its overcrowded, 8 gazillion watt minimalistic splendor.  Continue reading

Tween Boys Still Need Their Moms – I Have Proof!

The Craziest Question I've EVER Answered is Proof Tween Boys Still Need Their Moms - Phew

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last night, on the eve of my son J’s 12 birthday, he called me into his room.  As you guys know, I’m obsessed with the fact that, as our sweet boys grow up they need and want us around less and less… I worry about the bond of Mothers and sons and struggle with the knowledge that they’ll eventually be stolen away by some hussy, I mean their future wives. (See - Moms of Boys are Jealous Shrews, for more on that.)

Let’s just say, I spend a great deal of time rocking in a corner reminiscing about reading J bedtime stories and hearing him rattle off (in one breath) all the things the Very Hungry Caterpillar ate (how he learned the days of the week) and watching him dramatically gasp for air as if it was sooo hard to talk so fast … and beam with pride, as if he hadn’t done the very same thing the night before that and before that and bef…

Needless to say, nowadays, when he calls me in to talk, I drop everything and run to his door.

Then I collect myself, take a deep breath and enter slowly and nonchalantly, as if I was passing by anyway. Continue reading

27 Things I Shouldn’t Admit I’m Thankful For – But I Am

27 things I thankfulYesterday, I was sent a group Facebook questions asking me to name one thing I’m thankful for that isn’t cliche or traditional. Other people tagged in the post were coming back with beautiful sentiments about new friendships, the help of strangers, and averting disasters, which in my opinion wasn’t really following the rules at all. If that’s not the traditional stuff, then what is?

I didn’t respond because everything I thought of seemed trite, superficial, and a tad less profound – even though I’m pretty sure that was the point. Whatever, facebook people who don’t follow directions.

So, I did write a list because these things totally deserve thanks in my book — just refrain from saying them around the dinner table. Continue reading

21 Lies Moms Tell Their Kids To Stay Sane

21 lies moms tell

Last Sunday, as we drove home after a long baseball tournament in a heavy downpour, my kids suggested we continue this tedious day and go see a movie. Frankly, my eyes were closing just thinking about my cozy bed and if I wasn’t the one driving, I think I would’ve passed out cold.

Me: “Um, sorry guys that’s a great idea, but they don’t show movies after 8PM on Sundays. Maybe tomorrow.”

Yes, I’m always quick to throw out a creative, well placed lie. my daughter paused for a quick sec to access the statement, and confident in its validity, went back to whatever she was playing my iPhone. My son went back to his phone too. After a short pause, he said, “Yes, they do, there’s an 8:25.”

Damn you interwebs from ruining the only sanity saver I had left!

I’m just gonna come right out and say it. Moms lie! We do — Continue reading