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Santa Maria Sun / Humor

The following article was posted on August 3rd, 2010, in the Santa Maria Sun - Volume 11, Issue 21 [ Submit a Story ]
The following articles were printed from Santa Maria Sun [santamariasun.com] - Volume 11, Issue 21

Ride the rollercoaster of love

Rethink skid-marked underwear and other hazards of marriage

By ROB KRIDER

Some say marriage is like a rollercoaster ride. Before you get on, you feel excitement and anticipation, but once you’re strapped in, you’re scared to death and thrilled all at the same time. Some people want the ride to last forever, while others become nauseous and lose their corn dog and cotton candy lunch. My wife and I have been riding the ups and downs of our rollercoaster for lucky number 13 years now. But lately it seems like our coaster is in between rises and has slowed down quite a bit. It’s almost as if it’s stuck in a valley.

Instead of looking outside of my coaster and eyeing one of those newer, more exciting coasters (the ones with the bigger peaks), I decided to inspect my coaster and see why it had slowed. Also, my kids were in the cart behind me and I couldn’t see leaving them to ride with mom solo. Why had my coaster lost some of its steam? Honestly, it’s my fault. It’s probably because of my bad breath, inadequate grooming habits, and skid-mark-stained underwear. I’m not exactly the most put-together dude. I dress extremely casually (faded concert T-shirts from 1991 and cut-off shorts with holes in them), I don’t eat well or exercise, and I don’t shave as often as I should. Why would my wife ever want to do anything exciting with me? Most people wouldn’t want to stand next to me in line at the bank, let alone lie underneath me.

I realized that if I wanted the “highs” back in my marriage, I was going to have to do something to get my coaster back up there. I would need to take a closer look at me, including the hair on my back and the yellowing of my big toenails. Maybe I’m not exactly as sexy as I was when my wife decided to marry me, but, my appearance aside, one of the biggest complaints my wife has with me is the fact that I have no “game.” She says I am probably the world’s worst flirter. She compares my methods of flirting to that of a 7-year-old boy. You know the type: boy likes girl, boy hits girl in the back of the head and calls her ugly just to get her attention. She says that’s how I still flirt, even though I’m well into my 30s.

While I don’t perceive myself as being that bad (I don’t call her ugly, but I may have smacked her in the back of the head once or twice), I do recognize that my “game” could use a few more plays. Instead of trying to fix my flirting problem, I joke with my wife and tell her, “Think of my lack of game or immature flirting skills as infidelity insurance. There is no way I could cheat on you. I actually don’t know how to convince another woman to do it.” Funny, but women don’t think any reference to infidelity is entertaining in any manner whatsoever. I thought the little joke about other women was a cute way of flirting with her. Now you
can see her issues with me.

I guess the biggest struggle I have had to overcome is the major differences between how men and women think. As a man, when I want something, I grab it. Apparently women don’t like to be grabbed. Even though I know my wife hates being pawed at, I still can’t help myself. My wife walks by in the kitchen, I see her butt, and I grab it. I laugh and think it’s funny, and she spills spaghetti on the floor and calls me an idiot. After dinner, I suggest she and I spend some quality time together (thinking I’ve already covered any required foreplay when I grabbed her buns in the kitchen), but my wife is still stewing over the spilt spaghetti and doesn’t want me in the same room with her. I stand there in the kitchen with a bewildered look on my face thinking, “What? I was just showing her affection.” My idea of affection is clearly different from hers. She thinks showing her affection is me doing the dishes.

Besides having the dishes done, women do want to be grabbed … eventually. They just want you to take your time (a long time) convincing them it is a good idea. I thought all of that lengthy convincing ended in high school and certainly should have ended after we got married. Obviously, what I “thought” doesn’t mean much, since I also thought girls liked it when you untied their bikini tops in the pool. (Note to guys: They don’t.) A friend of mine explained to me how some men think: “If I wanted to take two hours convincing a woman to have sex with me, I’ll do that with a stranger.” Yes, he is now divorced, broke, lonely, and miserable.

I realized that even though I am married, I need to treat my wife like she is a stranger: flirt with her (without hitting her over the head), spend some time with her (act as if I am really interested in what she has to say), and take a moment to make her feel special. If I could do all of that, I would probably get the end result I am looking for: that whole up-and-down thing (the thrill ride I was talking about earlier, of course).

So I put this whole new theory of mine together one night. I got myself clean (and the dishes clean), was a gentleman, acted interested, was very patient, and guess what? My wife, whom I love, loved me again. So boys, if your “old lady” isn’t doing it for you anymore, stop calling her the “old lady” and take a look at your beer-bellied self. Make a few changes to your attitude (and mono-brow), and you will be pleasantly surprised with the final results. Oh yeah, and remember that the occasional shower can’t hurt the romance either, boys.

The other night, Rob really, really wanted to get his wife’s attention, so he dropped a piano on her head.




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