Posts Tagged ‘quirks’

You would think that after being married for almost 11 years – YIKES!  I would inherently know what to expect from hubby.   You’d think I could no longer be surprised by any of his quirks, or his actions.  You’d think that I could complete his sentences and just know what he’s going to want for dinner or how he’ll answer a question.  BUT, if you really believe that, you haven’t been reading the blog for very long.


Because the only constant in my life, is change.  When I’m POSITIVE hubby will only eat plain pizza, he orders sausage & peppers.  When I’m certain beyond any reasonable doubt that his favorite beer is Heineken…. today it’s not, it’s Arrogant Bastard (yes – this is really a beer.. and very aptly named for my hubby – HA!).  But tomorrow it could just as easily be DogFish Head… and next Tuesday it just may be some sort of Dead Guy Ale.  You see, hubby likes to be difficult, annoying… ok, he likes to keep our marriage spicy and fresh and new – he does this by constantly changing his mind and by constantly making me second guess everything I think I know about him.   Now, that’s love.  I’m sure he’s doing this for my benefit – so I get to re-discover him each and every day.  I get to fall in love with someone new all the time.  UGH!  Really, I just want to smack him upside the head and say… “you can’t be absurdly adamant about something one second and then pull a complete 180 in your opinion 2 days later!”  And he would ever-so-lovingly reply “why not?”


And so here I sit… always wondering what new thing I will learn about hubby today.  Maybe it truly is that men never grow up…. Because his behavior is not unlike that of my toddler.  He’s easily distracted. He can immediately forget what he just told me.  He’s difficult simply because he’s testing his limits.  He’s engrossed in something so completely for 10 minutes and then he’s moved on to something totally different.   I think I just discovered something.  I live with TWO 2 year olds (although, only one can annoy me with his beer choices!)


Sometimes, I write these blog posts and I find myself way off on a tangent… but I guess that’s what happens when you’re in love and you simultaneously want to smack your spouse upside the head.  You’re pulled in two opposing directions and reeling yourself back in when you’re ranting can be tough.  Today’s post was supposed to be about t-shirts… and geez… look where I am.  So, here’s my graceful transition to t-shirts….


It all has to do with that consistency thing again.  There is generally one thing that’s IS consistent.  Hubby has preferred clothes.  So, while he may have a full closet and many drawers full of options, he wears like the same 5 things… over and over and over and over.  He is imparting this lovely “style” to our son.  Any time I send hubby upstairs to grab an outfit for mini-hubby, he comes down with one of the same 2 shirts.  Every week, the same 2 shirts.  His response “well he likes these shirts”.  My response “YOU like these shirts… he’s 22 months old – he could sort of care less what shirt he has on…. unless you make an issue of it!”.   I suppose if I wait long enough, like almost every other “consistent”, one day I’ll wake up and hubby will have decided on a brand new “every-day” shirt for our son.  Or, one day I will wake up (this one is probably more likely) and our toddler, will indeed have his own opinion of shirts – and he will demand the same shirt every day.  Will this be learned behavior directly from his Dada OR will this be normal toddler behavior that will now be exhibited by BOTH of my children??


I can only imagine a day where mini-hubby and Hubby are now teenagers and they are both eating the same thing for lunch every day, drinking the exact same beverages, giving the exact same reason that cannot (or will not) do laundry, wearing the same shirt every day (still)… until that one magical day.  The day where they wake up and decide that the lunch-of-the-week has fallen out of favor only to be replaced with another “new” lunch that will get consumed for the next month straight.  OR,  at some point, will my toddler surpass my hubby and actually grow up into diversity?   If there’s anyone taking pity on me from out there in the universe… the latter will be my future.  Please, oh please, let this be my future!


Here my friends… is one of the 2 favorite shirts (and yes, my Super Men are mighty cute!)

Super Men


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Well, it’s been a crazy couple weeks at The Hubby Diaries household. 

New cars…. oral surgery, a Superbowl….. and some other things that I can’t blog about just yet…..    Sorry for disappearing but sometime life just gets in the way of blog time! 

So, to bring you slightly up-to-speed, I thought I’d share the events of last weekend.


I’ve mentioned before that hubby is a Giants fan…. we even own season tickets.


I’ve also mentioned that hubby, like many absurd football fans, likes to uphold certain rituals or superstitions when it comes to watching his Boys in Blue.


Well, as you likely know, the Giants won the Superbowl this past weekend.   The hooting & hollering at my house were something to behold BUT, the story here is not about the game itself but rather the ritual surrounding the game and game(s) leading up until the Superbowl.  If you recall, I mentioned that hubby feels the need to envelope himself in superstition when it comes to watching football.   In case you’re wondering, the new grill we bought for tailgating this season is still sitting unopened, in our garage.


So ever since the play offs started, we needed to employ new rituals.  The development of these rituals was originally unbeknownst to me but somehow, someway, I got pulled into the madness.


You see, when the Giants played in their first play off game this season we had a “normal” Sunday and hubby came home to plant himself in front of the tv, in the Man Cave, to cheer on his boys.   From my perspective nothing special happened this day.  From hubby’s perspective… at least after the game ended with a Giants win…  we had set the precedent for all activity that must occur to ensure we have paid our dues to the superstition God’s of Football, so that the Giants would continue to play well.


Apparently now…….


There was an outfit that must be worn

There was a place where hubby had to sit

There was a specific beer glass hubby needed to drink from

There was the pre-game, video game that must be played

He must only speak to certain people

He must watch the game by himself


And……(this is the part I hadn’t bargained for…………..)


There was a place we needed to eat lunch the day of the game

There were specific menu items that needed to be ordered at said lunch, on the day of the game.


Now, I was blindly unaware of these details on this the first weekend.  So, on the 2nd play off weekend when hubby declared.  “Well, we’re gonna have to go to Panera for lunch today”.   I innocently asked “Why?” 


And then apparently I needed to be schooled on the necessary ritual that had to occur, each and every time the Giants played this year, so as not upset the Football Gods.  And so, we went to Panera.  I dutifully ordered the same meal and then, when we returned home,  I watched hubby meticulously set up his viewing area with more attention that I’d ever seen him give to any area of our home.  (I only wish he could use the same attention to detail to say, clean the bathroom…..)  And then viola  the Giants won again.  This of course only solidified hubby’s insanity.


So, on Superbowl Sunday, I can’t say I was surprised when I found myself at Panera, eating tomato soup and 1/2 a sandwich, as we set the wheels in motion for the Giants to win. 


All I have to say is….. You’re welcome Giants fans.    It’s beyond obvious to me that hubby now has the power to influence the outcome of the game from his couch.   Now if only I could figure out a way to harness this power for other vastly more  important things…………


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The Super Frosty Zone

So, I’m certain that most of you are aware that hubby is a little quirky.   It’s equally what makes me love him and roll my eyes at him at the very same time!


Sometimes the things that come out of his mouth are so comical that you sit there, anxiously awaiting his admission that he’s kidding.. but usually this never comes.   I mean honestly, who needs to eat their cheese flat or requires specific bowls for specific foods?  But, even after all these years, he continues to find new ways to surprise me with his oddities!


Another obviously nutty quirk weaseled it’s way to the surface while we were on vacation last week.


Let me set the scene for you.


We’re lounging in the sun by the pool at our resort.  We’re lathered with sunscreen.  We’re listening to the ocean and watching the boats go by.  The pool princess is ordering towels from the cocktail waiters (for more on this click here) and hubby feels the need to quench his thirst with a diet coke.


The waiter returns shortly thereafter with an ice cold diet coke for hubby.    This is when the fun begins…….

“Oooooooohhhhh….. ooooooohhhhhh….  Hon, look!  They have the good ice!”  Hubby says with unusual enthusiasm.

 “Uhmmm ok, the good ice?”

“Yeah…. they have the ice cubes with the holes in the middle!!!”  He’s giddy like a school boy…….

“Ahhh, I see.  The good ice.”  I have no idea what’s he’s talking about… but, I bite.

“Ok, honey… what does that mean, the good ice?”

“Well, each piece has a hole so you can put your straw right through the ice cube.  And, this let’s you create a ‘Super Frosty Zone’ “.  He’s totally serious…..

“A Super Frosty Zone?”  Not sure why I’m following him down this path…..

“YES!  A Super Frosty Zone.  It allows you to get an extra shot of cold on each sip as it passes through the zone!!”

Oh boy….. I can’t help but smile at his craziness….

“And, you know what else?”  He says with increasing excitement….

“You mean to tell me there’s more?”

“Oh yeah!  If you can line up a whole bunch of ice cubes and put the straw through them all, you can create a ‘Super Frosty Highway’ ”

“A Super Frosty Highway?”

“Heck yeah!….. This resort is AWESOME!”


And, there ya have it.  We’re at an all inclusive resort with 24 hour room service, 4 restaurants, a pool, snorkeling and a spa and hubby’s trip is made by the ice cubes they put into his drink!


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If you’re a long time reader you may know the background of how this blog came to be.  If not, I’ll give you the short story.


Like many other people, I was unexpectedly laid off from my job a little over a year ago.  This was truly one of the most difficult times in my life.  In order to deal with my anxiety and the excess of free time, I started a blog (Active Leisure) where I humorously journaled my unemployed life.  It was great therapy for me.  If you’re ever bored and want to have yourself a few chuckles about muffin tops & pajamattire take a moment to surf around my other blog (unfortunately, or fortunately, since I’m now gainfully employed,  life has become a bit too busy for me to update it regularly). Another unexpected benefit of having all that free time, was more than enough opportunity to pay attention to stuff around the house.  Things like the drawers that needed cleaning or shoes hubby tried to put on the table or his inability to throw trash in the garbage, all seemed to make their way to the forefront.  Since I was chronicling my life, and almost every day hubby did something around our house that made me crazy, he made many appearances in that other blog!  So much so, that The Hubby Diaries grew out of that unemployment blog.


What I didn’t realize when I started a new blog that revolved around our relationship, was that by making hubby the star I was creating a monster.  I’ve posted before about hubby’s spotlight syndrome and about how he actually now highlights possible topics for the blog as he does, how shall we say….. stupid things around our house.   I’ve tried my best to diffuse this bright spotlight.  I’ve tried to place large objects in front of the light, I’ve propped up umbrellas around our house and I’ve even tried to swap out the big spotlight for a tiny little flashlight.  With a flashlight at least I can shine it on him at any angle I choose and for as long as I choose.  By only turning the light on him when I want to,  I can still manage daily life as hubby trudges through our house with dirt on his shoes and then, with that little grin he has, asks me if he’s just provided me with a new blog entry.  (No, dear hubby, you’ve just provided yourself with another chore of mopping the floor!)


But again, life is full of surprises, and what I never expected was for some of hubby’s friends to try to dip their toe into this bright light.  I guess I never realized how competitive men can be or how much innate desire a man has to be the star of his own show.  Now, I’d guess this doesn’t apply to every man as I know there are plenty of guys out there who like to fade into the background.  But for many others, who seem to celebrate hubby’s quirks and like to relish in the male strength & solidarity created by this blog, I’ve seen some interesting behavior.  Not only have I seen hubby noting his own “blog-worthy” behavior in our house, but I’ve started to see other male friends doing this too.  I often wonder… What have I done to myself??


Just this past weekend we hosted a poker game.  As you may know, we have a custom poker Man Cave and we host games regularly.  So, Friday night we host an 18 player Texas Hold’em game.  That’s 17 men and me.  (not completely crazy, cause after all… I am “one of the boys”.)


Anyhow, here’s a conversation with one of our friends who is a regular blog reader… (yes Joe.. this one’s for you…..)


Joe:  “How do I get into the blog?”

Me:  “Joe, it’s called The Hubby Diaries, it sort of needs to be about hubby”

Joe: “But, I do stuff that’s blog-worthy”

Me:  “I’m sure you do, but it doesn’t exactly work like that”

Joe:  “But what about the Pomegranate soap?  That has to be worthy of the blog”

Me:  “Joe, just because you have an unusual (and quite possibly unhealthy) fascination with the hand soap in our bathroom, doesn’t automatically get you into the blog”

Joe: “But, I wanna be in the blog”

Me:  “Sorry Joe, sometimes a situation will just jump out at me during the course of the day that inspires a post.  We can just hope you’re part of it”

Joe: pouting (and probably also mentally conniving about how he can “inspire” a post)  “Well, that sucks”

Me:  “I don’t know what to tell ya Joe…. I really don’t take requests….”

Joe:  “But I like to eat my cheese flat, and I’m an awfulizer.”

Me:  “Well, I feel sorry for your wife.. but that’s sort of not the point…”


So, now I’ve disappointed Joe.  It’s not the first time he’s asked about how he can get a guest appearance in the blog, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.  And, just for the record, the interest in our Pomegranate/Mange scented Softsoap in the bathroom is definitely a bit odd.  I think I’ve actually caught him at times, during poker games, smelling his own hands………..


A little later in the evening we’re all on a poker break hanging out in the kitchen.  And one of our other friends makes a comment that has everyone laughing.


Immediately Joe gets all upset at himself since he’s not the one who said it,  and, in the most disappointed voice, he says….”Oh man, I bet that’s gonna make it into the blog!!”.


Apparently spotlight syndrome can hit anyone at any time.  And apparently I have created my own absurd little world…. where men now come to my house and try to figure out ways to illustrate odd or annoying behavior just to make a blog appearance.  I have plenty on my hands with hubby, and I think any more men with bizarre quirks could quite possibly push me over the edge.


There’s just simply not enough time in the day to blog about Every Single Stupid Thing that Every Single Man does.   I’d have to quit my job and blog full time and I still probably couldn’t cover every single topic!


Right ladies??  🙂


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If you’ve been reading for a while, you may have realized that hubby has a few quirks.    If you’re new here… let it be known, hubby has more than a few quirks!


A few of these quirks have to do with food.  Some examples would be:  Flattening his food, eating all the snacks & the allocation of twizzlers.


A while back I posted about how, when I met hubby, there were about 3 things that circulated through his consumption menu.  Little by little we’ve introduced him to additional foods.  Many of these foods have gone from “I’d never, ever eat that”, to “WOW, this is fantastic and I could probably eat it every single day”.  Or, “WOW, these are good! I think this is one of my new favorite things.” (For your enjoyment:  here’s a link to an older post about hubby’s introduction to sushi & shredded pork)  But, even after hubby has realized that it’s good to have an open mind and that occasionally you may actually be introduced to something new that’s awesome, there are still some food battles I cannot seem to win.


The specific battle I’m talking about is Work vs Reward foods.


Now, if you have no idea what I’m talking about, you’re not alone because when hubby first told me of this life mantra, I was all like “Huh?  That doesn’t even make any sense!”  But if you know me at all, then you also know that I utter that phrase weekly, if not daily, when I’m talking to hubby.


So, let me explain.  Apparently there are foods out there in the universe that require “too much work” to eat.  These foods also apparently provide “too little reward” as compared to the energy required for consumption.  Yeah, I don’t really get it either.  I mean, if we’re talking about shucking oysters then maybe I can get on board with that statement…. BUT, we’re not talking about oysters.  We’re talking about, oh let’s say, corn on the cob.   Yes, corn on the cob.   This is one item on hubby’s list of foods he won’t eat because it “requires too much work”.


It’s not uncommon for me to stop at the farmers market during the summer to buy some amazing, fresh corn on the cob.  We do after all live in Jersey and Jersey (for those of you that don’t know this) is known for some awesome fresh, & sweet corn on the cob.  Anyhow, I’ve learned over the years to only buy as much corn as I can personally eat.  Because when I cook dinner I only make one ear of corn for myself since hubby will not eat it!


Here’s a summer conversation with hubby from early in our relationship.


Me:  with much excitement  “Hey babe.. I bought some corn on the cob today… it looks fantastic”

Hubby:  “Yeah, that’s nice.”

Me: “You don’t like corn on the cob?”

Hubby: “No, not really…”

Me:  “Is this like the time you told me you don’t like pickles?”

Hubby:  “Nope, it’s not like that”

Me:  “Cause you know…. After you tried the pickles, you decided you loved them”

Hubby:  “Yes, I know I loved the pickles but this is not the same.  I don’t like corn on the cob”

Me: “What do ya mean, you ‘don’t like it’ ?  You like corn, I’ve seen you eat it!?”

Hubby:  “Yeah, I like corn, but I don’t eat corn on the cob”

Me:  utterly confused  “I don’t get it.   You do realize it’s the same thing right?”

Hubby:  “It’s not the same thing at all.  Corn on the cob is work.  Eating should not require work”

Me: “Ok, you’ve lost me here.  Eating corn on the cob is work?”

Hubby:  “Yes, you have to bite off all the corn, then some of it gets stuck in your teeth.  It’s a pain in the ass and it’s so not worth the effort!”

Me: “You’re crazy, you know that?

Hubby: “I may be, but I’m a crazy person who doesn’t eat corn on the cob!”

Just for the record… I did actually offer to cut off the corn kernels from the ear of the corn (just like you would for a little kid!), but somehow this is an unacceptable solution to his aversion to corn on the cob.  So, from this day forward I only buy 1 or 2 ears and I happily eat them while hubby goes without any vegetables.


This Work vs Reward issue extends far beyond corn on the cob. 


It also applies to any type of ribs.  Apparently there’s “not enough meat on the bone” to enjoy a rack of ribs.  You get “too messy & not enough food” for all the effort you need to put into them.  And, of course, running really close in second (or 3rd) place is a similar item (generally loved by most men).. buffalo wings on the bone.  Now, I’m not sure how many men out there would be too bothered to shove a hot wing into their mouth and pull off all the chicken but for hubby, this particular item falls into the too messy & too little reward category.


I think this life mantra does indeed trickle into other areas of our home..(although he’s never said it out loud)


  • I think it might be too much work to make the bed.
  • It could possibly be too much work to wipe crumbs off the counter
  • It’s definitely too much work to fold laundry


I actually don’t know which measurement tool accurately assesses work vs reward, but hubby seems to be confident that his work vs reward meter is accurate.

If you ask me however…. I’m not 100% sure that hubby’s tool is calibrated properly.


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The Jokester

In honor of Father’s Day, today’s post is not about my hubby – who’s not yet a father.. (unless, you count being a Daddy to our adorable dog).  AND, just for the record mother-in-law (since I know you’re reading) the yet, is a loose yet, a very loose yet with no defined certainty or timeline.  Ok, now that we’ve cleared that up, back to my story.  Today’s post is about someone else’s hubby.  More specifically, my mom’s hubby.. who would also better be known as MY dad.


My dad’s an interesting character.  If I had to describe him I’d say he’s somewhat reserved, quiet, contemplative & introspective.  He’s incredibly good with his hands and can literally fix anything or build anything from scratch.  He’s a smart man who has a very methodical mind.  He’s always working on some sort of “project” and yet his actual “to–do” list never seems to get shorter. He can be a fantastic procrastinator but he’ll also drop whatever he’s doing if we call him about a problem we’re having at our house (much to the dismay of my mother who often says to him “how come you’re running over there to work on their projects when you never finish anything here???”


He is also a man of many, many quirks.  Here’s just a glimpse of some of my dad’s unique qualities:

  • If you cut him a slice of cake it must always be laid down the “right” way (so that the top frosting isn’t situated on the inside of the fork when you eat it from the side).

The "right" way

The "wrong" way


  • He has “good” clothes that are only to be worn on special occasions.  Now, while this seems perfectly normal, please understand that the item of clothing could be a new pair of sneakers that are “too good” to wear to Home Depot.  (yeah, I don’t get it either…………)
  • He always, always wears jeans… no matter how hot it is out, I think I’ve seen my dad in shorts (or a bathing suit) about 10 times in my life.
  • Even though my parents have had a pool almost my entire life, my dad never goes in it.
  • He can get sunburned, in a parka, under an umbrella, wrapped in a towel


But perhaps one of my favorite dad quirks is his goofiness.  I have to say that I have acquired a good balance of traits from both of my parents.  I got most of my OCD qualities from my mother (like my obsessive need to re-organize everything that everyone else puts into our dishwasher) and I got all of my silliness from my dad!

I’ve been known to quote endless “Dadism’s”.  And, every time, I’m starting to get a little goofy.. my dear hubby says to me… “ok, Bill” (my dad’s name).


Part of his silliness translates to dopey jokes and statements.  You know the ones (especially if you have a Dad similar to mine) that you hear over and over all your life.  The ones that, in the middle of a certain situation, you know are about to come out of his mouth.  You’ve heard it many times, you know the tone, and the punch line and you also know that he’s gonna crack himself up as soon as it comes out of his mouth.  And, it’s so dopey that even as you are rolling your eyes,  your family is all saying it at the same exact time…. and you’re all smiling a dopey grin at dad’s dopey joke.


Well I got an early morning dose of my dad on Father’s Day that started my day with a chuckle.


In order to share this story, I need to back up a bit.


Hubby & I decided to invite both of our families to our house for a Father’s Day bbq.  We have a big pool and it was supposed to be great weather which makes it the perfect setting for a family get together.    So, I get a call from my parents asking what time to come over.  And I tell them we’ll be outside at the pool all day and they should just come over whenever they want to.  So my dad, in true dad fashion says…. “well then, I’d like to come over at 8:00am” (he knows hubby & I are not morning people).  So, I say to him  – remember what I said earlier about shorts & swimming pools – “Dad, I’ll tell you what… if you come over in a bathing suit and spend the entire day in the pool with me, I’ll meet you out back at 8:00am”.  To which he replies “ok, deal!”. 


Now, if you knew my father, you wouldn’t have believed him… BUT, he’s also not one to pass up a challenge or the opportunity to make something into a joke.


Fast forward to Sunday, hubby & I sleep-in as we normally do.  When we wake up and look out the window, there’s a raft floating around our pool with a dopey little umbrella attached to it.  Apparently my father, who knew we’d still be sleeping, came to our house and supposedly (cause we still have no actual proof) floated around our pool at 7:20am.


So, when I called him up and inquired about the raft, he told me that he waited for me for about 15 minutes and when I didn’t show up, he gave up and went home.  To which I replied… .”well, I got up at 8:00am to come out to meet you and you weren’t here” (2 can play this game…..).  So, of course he says “well I was there… around 7:15.  And, I say “yes, but we agreed on 8:00am, and it’s not my fault if you can’t tell time….”  Typical father-daughter comedic banter ensues….neither one of us willing to give an inch.  And each of us, declares our self the winner!


What can I say…. I’m my father’s daughter.  And, the only person he can blame for my annoying qualities is himself.  Much like my hubby & Awfulizer Sr!! As they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!


And, in what may well be a date to go down in history, when my dad returned for our bbq (at a normal time of day), he wore his bathing and actually did float around on his raft with his silly little umbrella!!!  (notice the pastey white skin — he’s probably burned to a crisp today, and complaining to my poor mother!)


Anyhow, we had a great day with the family and hopefully both our father’s enjoyed Father’s Day.


Happy Father’s Day Dad!  Love you!

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