Many wives feel their husbands come with as many challenges as a child, but there’s hope.
The Zone
There’s the “friend zone,” where a woman sees a man just as a friend. I told my husband that, to me, he’s in the “kid zone” — meaning I see him like one of my kids. He smiled and shrugged it off, so I had to drop the bomb and said this to him:
“If you think about it, the friend zone is better than the kid zone, because a woman might sleep with a friend when drunk, but never with her child...”
My husband stared at me with his mouth open for minutes, and I just walked away, letting him think it over…
Clothing
I hate that I have to dress my husband just like my kids, because he can’t seem to dress himself properly. I buy his shirts and pants because he doesn’t care that his old ones are worn out. I bet he doesn’t even know his size. When we go somewhere fancy—like a wedding, funeral, or rarely the theater—I have to pick out his outfit, or he’d show up in jeans and a t-shirt.
Grumpiness
For the five hundredth time, I asked my dear husband, a little louder this time, to please put his worn clothes in the laundry basket instead of tossing them on the floor. Now he’s been sulking for half a day. I told him when the kids do it, it’s kind of cute, but from him, it’s just sad, so he might as well stop.
Bruhaha
I’m done with his silly jokes. I wondered if his humor was always this lame, but I realized it’s only gotten exhausting since the kids were born—they’re easy to make laugh. I’m glad he plays with them, but the problem is he brings that goofy humor to me and every other adult. At a recent work party, he dropped such a cringe-worthy pun that my coworkers awkwardly tried to smile, and I wanted to disappear. Like a kid, I had to tell him to keep those jokes at home—or better yet, not at all—because they’re just embarrassing…
Laziness
I also don’t like when my kids lounge on the couch with their phones, especially when my husband does it. I once pointed out who never just vegs out in the living room? ME! He said, “Who’s stopping you? Go ahead and lie down.” Okay, I did. An hour later, he asked what’s for dinner. I said, “Whatever you’re making, honey, since I’m resting with your permission.”
Q&A
My favorite is when I ask the family what to cook. Everyone shrugs and says “whatever”—including my husband—then they grimace when I serve broccoli cream soup. Honey, why couldn’t you just make a choice and tell me what you’d like to eat...?
Whining
I don’t tolerate whining from my kids, and it’s my absolute limit when my husband does it. “I don’t want to go to my parents’…” he complains. I feel the same, but the kids love their grandparents, so I pack everyone up without a word and put on a good face. My husband’s only job is to drive there, then chat about football with my father-in-law while I help my mother-in-law in the kitchen—and yet he still has the nerve to whine…
