On My Spouse

On My Spouse

* Adrian talks on the phone more than a teenaged girl.  

*  “I don’t care about our wedding,” he said to me, when I was having a freakout about wedding planning back in 1999.  “Once I gave you a ring and asked you to marry me, it was settled in my mind already.  The rest of it means nothing, as far as I’m concerned.”  At the time, I wasn’t really comforted by this.  Now, I think he was on to something, as our wedding was an absolute cock-up.

* If there is machinery involved, he will a)  help you b) fix it when it breaks c) be happier about whatever it is.

* He comes from a family that likes practical jokes.  Jumping out when you’re walking in the door with a huge sack of groceries and scaring you so that everything goes flying everywhere.  Then he dies laughing.   I am never prepared for this.  Once I was so startled by this, I started to cry, and I am not one of those crying ladies. My family doesn’t do jokes like that.  I have never found this kind of fastball-to-the-nuts humor funny.  Therefore, I am an eternally gullible victim. 

* If you want to get him to do something, spin it so that he can be heroic in some way.  This isn’t easy.  How can you make loading the dishwasher of epic importance?

* I think he was put on this earth to listen to me ramble.  And then he laughs if it’s funny or says, “Uh huh,” if it’s not.  Then goes back to thinking about particle physics or something he read in Motor Trend or quadratic equations or whatever the hell.

*  His hatred for camping is in equal measure to mine.  I only like Nature at a comfortable distance.  Like in a picture, or in my backyard, or in a park with trails.  Don’t ask me to sleep in it, or anything.  He doesn’t like Nature because there aren’t any machines in it.

* He does not wear cologne.  Unless he feels fancy, if we’re going out somewhere, which rarely happens.  Then he wears this Givenchy stuff called Pi, which we bought in France on our honeymoon.  We say that it ‘smells like math.’  It just smells like man cologne, though.  Math smells terrible, as we all know.

* A few days ago, I caught him lying in Matilda’s bed, cuddled in her pink bedspread, with the dog beside him, reading The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet’s Nest. 

*  Likes:  Atomic Fireballs, Dropje (icky black Dutch licorice that looks like it’s made from old tires), boobs, motorcycles, Mythbusters, science fiction, making giant carb-laden breakfasts for big groups, spontaneity, loose women, cribbage, Ars Technica

* Dislikes:  lipgloss, Papa Murphy’s pizza, to-do lists, going to the grocery store, flannel sheets, pajamas, anything religious, blue cheese dressing, dog leash laws, going for walks, carmelized onions


  • Carrie on Jul 14, 2011 Reply

    I know, I don’t get it. I mean, it’s an onion. What’s the problem?

  • Holly on Jul 14, 2011 Reply

    How can you not like carmelized onions? What is wrong with Adrian?

  • Carrie on Jun 14, 2011 Reply

    I know. I much prefer it to the days when all I wanted to do was kick him in the face.

  • DanYell Stedman on Jun 14, 2011 Reply

    This list makes me love Adrian all the more.

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