Category Archives: Mr. Wilson

Things My Husband Hates

While most people that know him well would consider him to be “particular,” it never ceases to amaze me how certain, seemingly mundane things can really get under his skin. Here are just a few:

1. Easter grass: My parents made both of us great Easter baskets this past weekend, as they have every year since I was born. They were filled with a delicious assortment of chocolates and candies, along with green and wispy Easter grass. Now, I wouldn’t consider this particular item one that should incite disgust and anger, but Mr. Wilson apparently thinks differently. As we were taking apart our baskets and putting the candy away, I heard him say on multiple occasions, “Oh my Lord, this sh*t keeps getting everywhere! What is this stuff called again? Easter grass? Well, I think it should be called bullsh*t!” And, of course, this comment made me laugh even harder, because it’s such a silly little thing, and while it can be annoying to find little pieces strewn about your house, it’s not really something to get that worked up over.

2. People who allow their dogs to go “nose-to-nose” with yours: I am 100% in agreement with him about this issue, and I think that most fellow dog owners would be as well. There have been so many times when we have been walking our dogs, and some lady on a cell phone with an extendable 20-foot leash allows her dog to run up to our dogs, without warning. Granted, we do have very sweet dogs, but they are also very protective, and I would not fault either one of them for giving another dog a little warning snap if it got too close. Each time it happens, I can hear him muttering something to the unsuspecting dog-walker as she passes and growling under his breath. Funny, but true.

3. Carpenter bees: Ever since the warmer temperatures debuted a few weeks ago, my husband has been battling his spring/summer nemeses— carpenter bees. He can be outside watering the lawn, edging, or grilling, when all of a sudden, he stops what he’s doing to go after a bee. Towel in hand, he swats and smacks at it until the bee has met its unfortunate demise. He is not content in just scaring it off temporarily, rather he wants to make sure that the bee never comes back again. Upon opening our patio door the other day, I noticed a rather large dead bee on the bricks. When I pointed it out, he said, “Yeah, I killed him today, and I left his body there to send a message to his friends.” I guess we have reverted back to biblical times, where they often used people to “make an example.” This time though, they are insects, and instead of swords or clubs, the weapon of choice is a gray towel.

4. My baggage: I know what you’re probably thinking; I must have some emotional baggage that makes my husband very uncomfortable. Wrong. What I do have, however, are lots of re-usable shopping bags. In my effort to be a little “greener” a few years ago, I stocked up on a dozen or so of these aforementioned bags. Not that he had a problem with me having them, or even the amount, rather the problem rested in the fact that I tended to use them for other things and leave them in various places. There was usually one in my car, serving as a receptacle for “school stuff,” one that I brought to and from school for my lunch, and I usually had another one in the garage filled with kids’ artwork (I can’t keep all of it, plus, they’re not even my actual children). I guess it had been eating at him for a while, because one day he just snapped and said, “Oh my God, you’re like a bag lady!” Of course, I immediately started laughing, because I had no idea that something this small (and unnoticed by me) would be such a big deal. As they say, you live and learn, so I have taken another step toward improving our marriage by only having ONE bag around (well, that one, plus the other one that’s hiding in the back of my car…).

Mr. Wilson’s New Love/Hate Relationship

Well, my husband got his wish, and we “gutted” our front yard last week. And by “we,” I mean his friend Marc’s landscaping company. You see, as much as he loves to “do the yard,” this project would have been a little much. All of the plants that had previously occupied our yard are now a distant memory, and each day when we drive up, we like to look at the new masterpiece that is now unfolding, due to the consistently warm temperatures and seemingly unending rain. To say that we are very pleased is an understatement; everything looks wonderful, and we are so happy with the decision to re-do our yard. But, even with all of the new “goodies,” some problems have arisen. Now, they are not really my problems, but I have a feeling that they soon may be, due to the fact that they directly affect my husband. We have been getting lots of compliments and questions about our new landscaping, which is nice, but along with those come the possibility of “copycats.” Yes, copycats.

When we went to the nursery to pick out plants, my husband made certain to pick out things that no one else in our neighborhood had, in order to make our yard look different (and yes, I’ll say it, a little better). Well, now we fear that, by making that decision, we may have shot ourselves in the collective foot. In talking with several neighbors, comments such as, “Maybe I’ll look into some of those trees for my yard.,” or “I think those trees would look great flanking my entryway” have led my husband to believe that other neighbors might decide to replicate what we did in our yard. Each time that I heard someone mention something along these lines, my eyes would immediately go to Mr. Wilson to see the look on his face. And let me guarantee you, each time, it was priceless. In an attempt to be friendly (which he is), he would smile and say thank you, but I knew that inside, he was wanting scream /punch this person in the face/put up a 20-foot wall around our house. As of yet, no one has “made the move,” but I know that when it does happen, our new, beautiful yard will probably become a NEWER, beautiful yard. Just like women don’t like to be caught in the same outfit as someone else, I guess the same thing applies to men and their landscaping. Well, at least mine!

Mr. Wilson

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