The How-Not-To Guide to Parenting and Marriage

by Jon Ziegler

Now I'll admit that I'm not an organizer, so maybe I just don't understand the logic that goes behind these new location assignments, but I just can't see the reasoning in condensing the three overloaded cupboards we have in the kitchen, into two, and turning the third into a palatial palace for the iced tea maker and tea bags, that we use once a year. It was as if she was making a shrine dedicated to the worship of cold brewed summer beverage makers.

  It's not just the complete loss of knowing where everything is relocated to that bothers me, either. The lack of any kind of warning that a reorganization has taken place, can cause grief as well.

  One particular morning, I was painfully unaware that the day before, my wife had determined that all my clothes needed to be switched from my side of the dresser to her side, and her clothes now lived on what used to be my side. Since I wake up an hour before my wife needs to, I usually get dressed in the dark, so as not to wake her. It wasn't until I actually got to work and punched in, that I realized that when I had reached into what I thought was MY drawer to grab a work shirt, I was actually grabbing and putting on a hot pink t-shirt of hers that said "SEXY LADY" in very sparkly letters across the chest . . . . . this is not something that the guys you work with will soon let you forget about. I can't imagine the abuse I would have received if they had seen the pair of panties that fate had determined I would be wearing that day.

  32. HELPFUL HOUSEHOLD TIPS

  Here's a few helpful hints for the husband who likes to help out around the house, but is not quite as household savvy as he might think he is:

  1. There is NO amount of liquid hand dish washing soap that is small enough, that it won't cause the dishwasher to erupt and flow suds all over the kitchen floor like a volcano.

  2. You cannot double the oven temperature of a casserole in an attempt to cut the baking time in half, without resulting in an episode that involves flame, soot, and possibly a meet and greet with the local fire department.

  3. If you are the intellectual type, like myself, you might think that applying deodorant to the dog’s armpits might make him smell less like a dog. And indeed, it does work for the short period of time between application, and the dog licking it off, causing vomiting and diarrhea all over the living room carpet.

  4. Using a leaf blower to speed up the task of dusting, doesn’t actually remove the dust from the house. It simply causes the dust to be airborne for a period of time, and makes all humans, cats and dogs sneeze until the dust has once again settled. It is also impossible to dust the shelf displaying your wife’s heirloom antique plates, without sending them crashing to the floor.

  33. VICIOUS CYCLE

  There is a vicious cycle in this house that cannot seem to be broken. It goes something like this.

  1. Child obtains a small rodent of varying size and specie.

  2. Child convinces us she will take care of it, if we purchase the cage, food, bedding, etc.

  3. Over the course of weeks or months, the rodent and its domicile become nothing more than a piece of furniture or clutter in the child’s room, and begins to emit the familiar odor of cage neglect. Upon investigation, parent finds out that the rodent's food supply had run out two weeks ago, and child has been feeding it various items from the fridge, half of which, the rodent doesn't care for, so it rots and further adds to the familiar odor of cage neglect.

  4. Parent says, "I've had enough!", and forces child to set free, give away or pray in earnest that the rodent dies. The cage goes with the rodent to its new home, or is gotten rid of if the rodent ends up going to be with the Lord.

  Several months pass...

  1. Child obtains a small rodent of varying size and specie.

  2. Child convinces us that she will take care of it, if we purchase the cage, food, bedding, etc....

  34. THINGS TO DO WHILE YOUR WIFE WATCHES HER DUMB SHOWS

  I've never been a huge fan of dancing or watching dancing. Nor am I a fan of watching bachelors, and bachelorettes try to pick a suitable mate. So it is no surprise that I don’t like watching TV shows that are about these things. It would even be fair to say that, for me, being in the room while these shows are on, can be quite painful.

  Yet, I do like to be with my wife and daughters each evening while they intently watch their shows. I know it’s not what you would call top-notch family time, but at least we are together.

  At any rate, over the different shows many seasons, I have developed some things I can do while I'm sitting there enduring them. I will now share them for the benefit of any other husbands who find themselves in the same predicament.

  1. The natural choice of time killing activities, is to see how long you can get away with making fun of, and impersonating things that happen, and are said on the show. This can also include doing dances that involve shaking your booty and making fart noises in front of the TV, blocking everyone's view.

  2. Eat a Kleenex. It's not very tasty, but does occupy your mind, and gives one a sense of accomplishment. Once you've mastered the eating of a Kleenex, you can up the ante, and try a bowl of dog food, or a tube of toothpaste.

  3. Make the cat attack show watchers with the aid of a laser pointer, which most cats will chase with ferocity.

  4. For the night's that seem more torturous than normal, I will see how many thumb tacks I can stick into my body without making a sound. One night while I was playing this game, my wife actually thought that the tears running down my face were due to her favorite dancer getting a low score. She expressed how touched she was that I was so concerned about well-being of "her" star.

  5. And finally, one of my favorites, on night's when the wife and girls are more focused on the show than usual, I will very discreetly see how many items of clothing I can remove without anyone noticing. I've not yet made it all the way down to only my underwear.

  A hint though, for some reason, they will notice your shirt being gone before they notice that you are sitting in your underwear, so if you are shooting for total number of clothing items removed, go for the socks and pants before the shirt.

  35. THE VIOLENCE OF PASSIVE AGGRESSIVENESS

  My wife and I have a system by which we can communicate to one another without having to clutter things up with words and feelings and such. Whenever one of us has been angered by the other, we let that person know we are upset by doing things that we know will annoy them back.

  For instance, just last night as my wife was beginning to make dinner, I grabbed the orange juice jug from the refrigerator, and at a moment that I thought she was preoccupied with the food, I tried sneaking a gulp. But just as the jug was at the apex of the proper chugging position, she turned and caught me. There was a flash of disapproval in her eyes.

  Knowing that she hated my drinking out of containers, my juice sampling would be considered an act of aggression on my part . . . . . a slap in the face. But she said nothing, so maybe it hadn't really occurred to her what had happened.

  Twenty minutes later, my wife called us to dinner and we all sat down at the table. Tonight was spaghetti night, one of my favorites, and it smelled wonderful. However, my joy did not last long. As soon as I put the first fork full into my mouth, I knew that she had noticed the orange juice incident, and had struck back by purposely under cooking the spaghetti noodles . . . . . A kick to my shins.

  She knows that this food crime is one of my pet peeves, and I was angry. It is important though, for us to not show any signs that we are upset during one of these silent battles. It would almost be the same as surrender, so I smiled and told her how delicious it was, as I chewed on the leathery pasta.

  She had gone too far by ruining dinner, so I purposely let the spaghetti sauce accumulate around my mouth until it was nearly dripping off my chin. This not only irritates her, but grosses her out as well. And then for good measure, I reached over and grabbed a dining room window curtain and wiped my face, instead of using the napkin provided . . . . . the ol' one two punch.

  I could see the fury well up inside her . . . . .
it was on!

  "I organized your work shop today" (that was a hard blow to the head, even if she had just made it up, because she knows my workshop is off-limits to her organizing)

  But I came right back at her with a pleasant, "that's nice dear. Hey kids let's have a burping contest!" (A direct disobedience of the table rules)

  "Yes, that sounds fun" she said, having trouble hiding her anger, "and the winner gets to play with dad's sockets and wrenches in the bathtub tonight".

  "The loser gets to give herself and mom a makeover with mom's makeup!" (A nice jab on my part)

  "And then we'll all give dad's Star Wars toys a new look with some finger nail polish!" (.... wait..... what?)

  I reeled from the impact of that last karate kick to the head. My vintage Star Wars action figure collection was sacred. I began to sputter, and I drew a blank on how to hit her back. I had used up my arsenal, but I couldn't let her win, or get away with bringing my action figures into the fight. So I did the only thing that came to mind..... I spit my mouthful of food onto the middle of the table, and then I took a baby carrot from the vegetable tray, and stuck it up my right nostril.

  Both of my daughters squealed with delight and spit their food on the table.

  Her eyes became like two long, sharp daggers that reached across the table, and began to carve obscenities on my face, and then she silently got up and left the table.

  I had won the fight. The food spitting and nostrilized carrot had been the knock-out blow! I grabbed a second carrot and stuck it into the other side of my nose in celebration, and did a victory lap around the table.

  But I knew from experience, that it would not be long before I would feel pretty bad about being a jerk and end up apologizing, so I relished every moment of my victory end zone dance around the table, even knowing it was not to be long lived.

  36. I LOVE YOU OR HIGHWAY TO HELL

  The song that your child will voluntarily sing at kindergarten show and tell, will not be "I Love You, You Love Me" that they had heard and sang a hundred times while watching Barney. . . . . . It will be "Highway To Hell", which they had heard for only the five seconds it took you to vault over clutter in the garage to change the station on the radio.

  . . . . . .

  37. THE ONE THING YOU CAN NOT FORCE A CHILD TO DO

  There is one thing that you cannot force a child to do, and that is to look at you when you are talking to them. You can force them to "come here" or "sit down" or "stand up", but you cannot make them look at you.

  You can grasp their head like a volley ball, and try to turn it in synch with the movement of their beady little eyes, but you will always be a split second too late. You can even try to use the tips of your thumbs to keep their eyeballs from moving, but they are far too slippery . . . . . Not that I've ever tried such a ridiculous thing.

  38. WHAT GOES ON IN THE BATHROOM

  I live in a house with three females, and I can come to only one conclusion about what goes on in the bathroom when someone other than myself is in there. . . . . they are turning massive quantities of toilet paper into massive quantities of hair, and throwing it in the shower.

  . . . . . .

  39. MYSTERY

  One of two things is happening. Either my mind is starting to slip gears, and I'm forgetting to zip up my pants, or the jeans that I get such great deals on at The Salvation Army, are donated because of mechanical defects..... Until I figure out which it is, I'm not taking any chances on total exposure. I've started wearing two pairs of underwear.

  40. IN YOUR FACE (BOOK)!

  One evening after dinner, my wife and I settled into our respective spots on the couch and easy chair. As normal, we began to unwind from the day’s work by watching TV and checking our Facebooks.

  The first post in my newsfeed was from Dennis, a friend of mine, announcing his new daughter’s dedication on this coming Sunday. In my usual attempt to be funny, I left a comment that read, "I'll see you there if I can get approval from her highness" and then I moved on to the rest of the newsfeed.

  A few moments later, a notification popped up telling me that my wife, who was sitting across the room from me, had commented on the same post. When I clicked back to Dennis's page, she had posted a response under my comment that read, "Why do you always have to make me sound like a nag or a party pooper?"

  "I was just being funny" I answered via comment, annoyed at her lacking a sense of humor about it.

  "You are always trying to be funny, but a lot of times you're just a jerk"

  Before I could respond, a comment popped up from Jill, a mutual friend of ours and Dennis’s, which read, "We are honored to be able to share this blessed day with you and your family"

  Getting angry, I typed, "Do you mind not butting in Jill? And @wife: you think everything I say is being a jerk! You have NO sense of humor!!!"

  The next comment came from Dennis, whose page we were on, "Could you guys go fight on someone else's baby dedication announcement post?"

  And then my wife, "I used to have a sense of humor til YOU wore it out with your STUUUUUPPPIIIIIIDDD "jokes"!!!"

  Having had enough, I hit "like" on my wife's last statement, and exited the page.

  I was still stewing when the little scrolling account of what everyone is doing on Facebook, showed that my daughter had commented on a status from her iPhone. So wanting to move past the argument with the wife, I clicked to see what she had said.

  My daughter’s friend, Nikki (with a little heart before and after her name) had posted that she had the flu and wasn't feeling good. My daughter had then commented that she was sorry, and hoped she would feel better soon. Being proud of my daughter's kindness, I "liked" her comment.

  I then paused for a moment to take a bite of the sandwich that I had been working on while Facebooking. Before I could move on from my daughter's friend's page, a comment popped up from my wife that read, "Don't you dare "like" me and then walk away!"

  She had obviously seen in the same scrolling, privacy-invasion box, that I had liked our daughter's comment and followed me there.

  "I'm not continuing this conversation if you are going to be unreasonable!" I answered.

  "Oh that's you, leave whenever you know you're WRONG!"

  Then a comment from Nikki, who neither my wife nor I were actually "friends" with, saying, "Who are you guys, and why are you on my page?"

  Followed by a comment from my daughter that said, “YOU GUYS ARE RUINING MY LIFE!!! GO AWAY!"

  "@Wife: I'm not wrong! @daughter: Oh yeah! Did I ruin your life when I bought you two new pairs of jeans last week? @ Nikki: sorry, we'll be done here in a minute."

  Meanwhile, I saw that the wife had left a comment back on Dennis's page that read, "Sorry Dennis, he thinks only of himself"

  But before I could respond to that, my daughter commented, "That doesn't give you the right to ruin my life!"

  Nikki wrote, "Will you all please go away"

  My other daughter popped up in the "chat" box, "YOU BOUGHT NATALIE JEANS? WHY DIDN'T I GET ANY"

  Another notification chirp let me know that my wife was tweeting @me that #MyHusbandIsAJerk.

  I was now FURIOUS!! I began firing back responses.

  @Nikki: TURN OFF THE COMPUTER IF WE ARE BOTHERING YOU!

  @Daughter 2: I BOUGHT YOU A CAGE AND FOOD FOR YOUR STINKING RODENT, WHO KEEPS US ALL AWAKE RUNNING ON HIS WHEEL ALL NIGHT!

  @Wife: I'M NOT THE ONE BEING A JERK!

  I then tried to go back to the dedication post to get the last word in, but discovered that Dennis had "unfriended" us. And he wouldn't answer my call to see if he would at least let me dictate my response to the wife's last remark.

  So I set my cyber sights on daughter 1, and fired off a comment that read, "WHY DON'T YOU BUY YOUR OWN CLOTHES AND FOOD, YOU SELFISH BRAT!"

  But at the exact moment I hit the send button, I noticed that the comment above mine didn't look familiar. It wasn't from my daughter, my wife, or Nikki. Scrolling up, I realized I wasn't
even on the right post.

  Somehow in my angered frenzy, I had hit the wrong notification and had just commented on a link our pastor had posted, that featured a starving child from Somalia's heartbreaking plea for help........ I had just called a starving child from Somalia a selfish brat, and told him to buy his own food and clothing.

  It took several sweaty minutes for me to figure out how to delete my comment to the Somalian child. After which I called every Facebook friend that I thought had been witness to the whole debacle, and apologized.

  Then I gathered the wife and daughters all together in the same room, and we had an all-out, old fashioned, face to face blowout ...... complete with shouting and arm waving.

  And just to make sure everything was good, I made a large (by my standards) donation to the charity who's video the Somalian boy had been featured in.

  41. HORSE FREAK

  To say that my daughter loves horses, is an understatement similar to saying that I like bacon. She is a certified horse freak. Every Christmas and birthday list she has ever made, had a horse as the number one item.

  I hate having to decline her request to own a horse since she loves them so much, but our yard isn’t big enough for the horse, me, and large piles of manure. Not to mention, my wallet is not big enough for a horse and all its food and accessories. And on top of all that, I just know that it would be me that kept the beast from starving, or freezing to death, or getting the mange (or whatever it is that horses get).

  But instead of just saying no, and listing all of those reasons, I try to "creatively" discourage her desire for horse ownership . . . . . and I must say that I have failed miserably up to this point.