So, about six months into writing this blog, I read an article about “how to write a great blog” and found out my posts are way too long. Friends, I apologize. I am pretty wordy on paper and in person, so it’s true to form that my posts would bring up the average word count—even for a female blogger. For the Neighborhood (Hibu) Magazine articles, I usually hit my mark of 500 words or less. Tough goal! But I have a boss/editor there. One of my MANY New Year’s resolutions is to improve my writing skills, particularly with Theories: Size 12. Tall Child says that “a little Bug goes a long way sometimes.” Thus, in 2014, look forward to shorter, more concise blog posts (still only on Fridays). One of my favorite quotes is Shakespeare’s “Brevity is the soul of wit.” Blog writin’ is purty different from book writin’ and article writin’, ya’ll. Forgive my rookie mistakes, please. Then again, most writers make zero to $10 per year, so we write what and how we want to. Some don’t even use nouns and verbs in every sentence. Oh, no I didn’t! Yes I did. How about I just write whatever I want in how many ever words I want and you read as much as you can tolerate. Up to you. It’s free, anyway. Or, you can purchase this blog on Kindle for .99 per month. I tossed it up on Kindle because some folks like to read in that format. Otherwise, click, read/skim/share, at your discretion here on Blogger for free. I don’t seem too dedicated to this goal, do I? I’m not the best at keeping resolutions. Heck, if I stay at my hoggy pace of late, I’ll have to change the blog title to Theories: Size 14.
Regardless, THANK YOU for reading and enjoying my Theories—even the looooong ones. I think we’ve built a fun relationship on common ground. I’ll flesh out these bad boys for the book (a collection of humorist essays)—coming soon—possibly late 2014.
We’ll see. I’m stacking up commitments and extra work like crazy, including getting a Master’s Degree. Spring semester as a high school teacher FLIES (and I’m responsible for 9th grade end-of-course test coordination.) Yay. Me.
Anyhoo, speaking of relationships and stress, let’s talk Theory 27: The epic, memorable marital arguments have titles. So as not to dredge up more fights among couples who actually read this blog, I’m going to keep descriptions concise, omit even nicknames, and use this blog as a sort of tutorial in case some of you are resolving to be nicer to your spouses in the New Year. I’ll break down the fights in this format:
Moral of the Story
Away we go. “One of these days, Alice, to the moon!”
Argument Summary: The husband lied. The wife confronted him. The argument ensued. The wife was feeding their 9-month-old baby. She picked up the baby food and threw the glass jar of Stage 2 Gerber bananas at her husband’s face. She is not an athlete. He is. He dodged. The jar crashed into the wall. Liquid bananas and glass exploded across the room.Wife Learned: You mess it up. You clean it up.
Husband Learned: No one takes you seriously if you are yelling with bananas on your face.
Moral of the Story: Practice.
Incandescent Light Bulb (same couple as above)
Argument Summary: Husband acted ugly. Wife threw a 75 Watt incandescent light bulb at his face. Husband dodged the bulb and the glass shattered into two-hundred million microscopic sized pieces of glass/sand.Wife Learned: If you smash loaf bread onto broken glass you can get tiny pieces of glass off the floor.
Husband Learned: He should change the light bulbs from now on, especially since the new ones have mercury in them.
Moral of the Story: Glass is harder to clean up than bananas, but a makes for a much more dramatic show of fury.
Argument Summary: Wife and working mother of two children begged, pleaded, and harassed husband in a futile attempt for help with housework. She specifically asked him to pleeeeaaaassseeee do the dishes. He hid. Never did. Anything. One morning before work, the wife loaded all the Spaghettio-encrusted (you know how hard those little circles get) and greasy plates, cups, and bowls into sacks and carried them outside. She then placed every single filthy dish in the driver’s side floorboard of the husband’s truck.Wife Learned: Revenge may be dirty, but it feels so good.
Husband Learned: If
you think Bicycle guys are selfish and make other people late for work,
try unloading grimy plates from your floorboard at 7:00 a.m.
Moral of the Story: Women who work need freakin’ help with housework. Better yet, housekeepers.
Diapers in Panama City Beach
Argument Summary: The husband, wife, and 15-month-old baby spent a week in Panama City Beach. Upon returned, the exhausted wife (who had to go to work the next day) complained that she was exhausted. The husband said, “I don’t’ know why, we just got back from vacation.” The wife explained, “We took a pack of 72 diapers to PCB and brought back 2. How many diapers did you change while we were there?” The husband said, “One right before we went to Pineapple Willy’s and one up in the condo.” The wife said, “That means that you changed 2 diapers and I changed 68.”
Wife Learned: Dirty diapers can foul up the interior aroma of a Yukon like nobody’s business, especially overnight, especially overnight in July in Tennessee.
Husband Learned: Nothing, obviously.
Moral of the Story: Babies do #2 everywhere, not just at home, boys. Help!
Folding Chairs and Furniture
Argument Summary: One Friday, the wife was scouring and decorating her home for a huge baby shower to be held the next morning. She had asked the husband to move 30 folding chairs that had been leaning on her front porch for 5 months, for 5 months. He didn’t. He went to work. Then, out of nowhere, a moving van showed up with the husband’s aunt’s old furniture (a king size mattress, box springs, bed, dressers, tables, a huge TV, and two filthy stinky wing-backed chairs). The wife had no idea these things were coming the DAY before the big shower. The movers stuffed them into the wife’s prettily dusted and mopped sunroom. The wife (who is friends with the “Dishes” wife above), copied her buddy’s method and hauled and stacked all 30 metal folding chairs into the husband’s closet. She then pushed every piece of stinky nasty furniture that she was strong enough to maneuver (including the TV) down the steps to the basement.
Wife Learned: Some men just cannot communicate. They don’t receive messages. They don’t sent messages.
Husband Learned: TV’s that bounce down 14 steps don’t get the best reception.
Moral of the Story: A rolling wing-backed chair gather’s no moss.
Argument Summary: The man was raring to go mow. The wife was enjoying her first beautiful glorious yellow flowers of spring on her gigantic double-blooming forsythia bush. She watched the husband rev up his mower and warned, “Whatever you do, do NOT even go near that forsythia bush!” The husband (not on purpose, of course), put mower pedal to medal and seemingly lost control of the mini-tractor. The front of the machine “rared up” and landed hard, with force, with blades spinning madly, right on top of the golden bush. He shredded it.
Wife Learned: If you grow it, he will kill it.
Husband Learned: Steer clear of the golden blooms or meet your not-so-golden doom.
Moral of the Story: Men don’t listen.
Argument Summary: The baby was a few weeks old. The husband was very bossy. The wife and husband were sitting at the kitchen table discussing child care. The husband said, “You don’t have to pick her up every time she cries.” She wife said, “If you say that one more time, I’m going to break this china plate over your head.” A few minutes later, the husband said, “You are going to spoil her rotten. You don’t have to pick her up every time she cries.” The wife picked up her plate and broke it over his head.
Wife Learned: He deserved it.
Husband Learned: His rank.
Moral of the Story: Never tell a mama not to pick up her crying baby.
The Tree Stand-Off
Argument Summary: The husband and wife have enjoyed wedded bliss for 13 years now. Each Christmas they choose a live evergreen. Each Christmas, the wife implores the husband, “Let’s get the guys at the garden center to put the stand on the tree so we don’t have to.” Each Christmas the husband dismisses her plea because he doesn’t want her to go looking for the stand. You see, he knows the stand is in the woods, screwed into the trunk of last year’s tree. Each Christmas, they bring home a tree and FIGHT because one of them has to tromp through the mud and get the stand. Then, they awkwardly battle the tree into the freezing cold, sappy stand using a steak knife to cut limbs and encyclopedias to prop the plastic holder so the tree doesn’t lean.
Wife Learned: Pretend like you believe him.
Husband Learned: Act like a hero. Go to the woods and fake like you are looking for the stand. Then come back and say, “Let’s just buy a new one.” She’ll believe you.
Moral of the Story: Let the teenagers at the garden center fasten the tree into the stand. You will save energy, frustration, encyclopedias, and a steak knife.
Photo taken December 2014. Ah, the smell of 365-day-old pine needles.
Gulp. Readers, don’t bother getting your panties or boxers in a wad and suing me if I accidentally identified you in this post. Remember friends, writers make almost no money. Plus, I’m a teacher and we have to hustle for every cent we make. Plus, Plus, Tall Child, Sharkey, Gnome and I were robbed two days before Christmas and anything I could pawn to pay legal fees is already being pawned by some low-life. Plus, Plus, Plus, there’s no telling when I’ll get my tax return because I am dealing with a criminal in Mississippi and the IRS. Which brings me to Theory 28: Don’t blog aboutbrother-husbands or women doing all the work. You’ll tempt fate.
Also, visit Amazon.com or my website to read about my book, The Eye of Adoption, my short story, Field Day, and my collection of essays for parents and teachers, Parents, Stop and Think.
Author website: www.jodydyer.com
Facebook: Theories: Size 12 (See each post, comment, share, and talk directly with others readers and me!) I'd LOVE to hear your theories!
Facebook: Jody Cantrell Dyer
Facebook: The Eye of Adoption
GoodReads.com: Friend me! Let's talk books.
Google+: The Eye of Adoption
Google+: Theories: Size 12
Author website: www.jodydyer.com
Buy The Eye of Adoption here: Amazon.com