hen-pecked
today the baby turned 11 months old. and today it finally dawned on me that my ladies are conspiring to do me in. they are secretly working in tandem to destroy me.
the other night mrs nice guy went out on a mom's night on the town (with moms who actually stay home momming all day, so, technically, i should have been the one to get the mom's night out, but why split hairs, HUH, WHY?) . anyway, she gets home after i am all tucked in. i am in a blissful place: lights out, ipod humming, baby asleep. mrs nice guy returns from her evening out. she slips silently into bed beside me. she slides her arm across my rippling pectoral muscles. she gives me a warm kiss. too warm, in fact. a little chunky even. and, if my taste buds do not deceive me, chocolatey.
and then the full horror of the situation dawned on me: would you like to know what my wife did to me the other night? she came home late from brooklyn's seediest dens of gomorrah, still wobbly from her orgy of booze and whoredom, grabbed a few chocolate chips from the kitchen, chewed them up and, instead of swallowing them, pulled me back from the brink of blissful sleep to kiss REGURGITATED CHUNKY CHOCOLATE SALIVA BITS INTO MY MINTY FRESH MOUTH. why you might ask, like a rational human being. why would she do something so cruel to the man who tenderly cares for her first born? why, of course, because she thought it would be funny.
i have to hand it to her: impenetrable logic. still, if i had done this to her -- if i had woken her up in the dead of deadest night to french kiss half-chewed food into her mouth -- i would be sleeping on the balcony under flood lights and on fire for the rest of my life.
(true story, when i was 15 i had an eight-day-long summer camp fling with a cutie pants named holly. once, when she was just finishing a delicious belgian waffle, i asked if i could see what she tasted like -- cut me some slack, i was 15. she said "sure" and then french kissed chewed-up waffle bits into my mouth. i sulked for the rest of the summer.)
so that happened. and then this happened: yesterday at the tot lot my daughter bit me. hard. i was sitting on a bench. she was standing, facing away from me, propped up between my legs. she took in the playground scene. she turned to look up at her old man. she smiled sweetly. then, with her rabbit-sharp incisors, she took about 2 inches of flesh out of my inner thigh. i didn't know whether to laugh or cry. so i did both. it was a funny sound.
it wasn't a one-time fluke either -- she bit me again today! i was crouched over her and an eight month old boy she was flirting with at the tot lot. she suddenly got very coy, very shy. she buried her face into my shoulder. then she champed at the bit of my collar bone. yowee.
so, yeah. the women in my life are turning on me. i am a cornered man. help a brother out, won't you? you'll recognize my by the haunted look in my eye. i'll be muttering, just barely under my breath: what did i do that was so bad? take me in. hold me. i might startle easily. a glass of wine will help soothe the nerves.
just don't offer me any chocolate chips.
the other night mrs nice guy went out on a mom's night on the town (with moms who actually stay home momming all day, so, technically, i should have been the one to get the mom's night out, but why split hairs, HUH, WHY?) . anyway, she gets home after i am all tucked in. i am in a blissful place: lights out, ipod humming, baby asleep. mrs nice guy returns from her evening out. she slips silently into bed beside me. she slides her arm across my rippling pectoral muscles. she gives me a warm kiss. too warm, in fact. a little chunky even. and, if my taste buds do not deceive me, chocolatey.
and then the full horror of the situation dawned on me: would you like to know what my wife did to me the other night? she came home late from brooklyn's seediest dens of gomorrah, still wobbly from her orgy of booze and whoredom, grabbed a few chocolate chips from the kitchen, chewed them up and, instead of swallowing them, pulled me back from the brink of blissful sleep to kiss REGURGITATED CHUNKY CHOCOLATE SALIVA BITS INTO MY MINTY FRESH MOUTH. why you might ask, like a rational human being. why would she do something so cruel to the man who tenderly cares for her first born? why, of course, because she thought it would be funny.
i have to hand it to her: impenetrable logic. still, if i had done this to her -- if i had woken her up in the dead of deadest night to french kiss half-chewed food into her mouth -- i would be sleeping on the balcony under flood lights and on fire for the rest of my life.
(true story, when i was 15 i had an eight-day-long summer camp fling with a cutie pants named holly. once, when she was just finishing a delicious belgian waffle, i asked if i could see what she tasted like -- cut me some slack, i was 15. she said "sure" and then french kissed chewed-up waffle bits into my mouth. i sulked for the rest of the summer.)
so that happened. and then this happened: yesterday at the tot lot my daughter bit me. hard. i was sitting on a bench. she was standing, facing away from me, propped up between my legs. she took in the playground scene. she turned to look up at her old man. she smiled sweetly. then, with her rabbit-sharp incisors, she took about 2 inches of flesh out of my inner thigh. i didn't know whether to laugh or cry. so i did both. it was a funny sound.
it wasn't a one-time fluke either -- she bit me again today! i was crouched over her and an eight month old boy she was flirting with at the tot lot. she suddenly got very coy, very shy. she buried her face into my shoulder. then she champed at the bit of my collar bone. yowee.
so, yeah. the women in my life are turning on me. i am a cornered man. help a brother out, won't you? you'll recognize my by the haunted look in my eye. i'll be muttering, just barely under my breath: what did i do that was so bad? take me in. hold me. i might startle easily. a glass of wine will help soothe the nerves.
just don't offer me any chocolate chips.
posted by mr. nice guy at 10:49 PM
15 Comments:
They're just love bites.
Your women love you, they just manifest love in odd ways.
that is awesome. your wife rocks the funny boat.
and i do that laugh/cry thing every time my tot slaps me across the mouth. she makes the best face and it hurts but it's hilarious so she keeps doing it becuase it's impossible to tell if it's right or wrong from my muddle reaction!
you're invited to our tot lot. we're the moms with flasks ;)
Aha, your subtitle becomes so much clearer now...
avoiding chocolate chips must be how you kept those rippling pectoral muscles so tone... :)
and Nita, can i get directions to your tot lot...i will bring my own flask!
we were parents of The Biter in Class for over a year. she went to daycare at my place of employment so many of my coworkers used to say- hey the kiddo bit my child again every time i left my office to get coffee. good thing you guys are hiring a nanny.
Yes, but did you swallow?
lesley -- a good mr nice guy doesn't swallow and tell. wait, did i just swallow and tell?
nita -- i'll take directions to that lot, thanks.
Ewwwww. That's just not right.
Wood read this out loud to me twice. The first time I couldn't understand shit though because she was laughing so hard.
Yeah, I'd choose some chewed up chocolate chips waaay before some of the other stuff I'm expected to swallow. LOL
And it's really hard being the parent of a biter. If you're lucky, she will only bite YOU. If she starts biting other kids, well, she'll get a rep, it'll go down in her permanent record, she'll be exiled, sent to Biter's Rehab. You'll be shamed, knowing your good parents but can't for the life of you figure out how to solve the biting problem.
Hi, I'm Linda and I am the mother to a former biter.
Are you sure the women in your life are really hen-pecking you? I mean at least your wife doesn't tell you which cards you should lay while playing Skip-Bo so you don't offend the other players. She could be the type of woman who would pull you aside at a dinner party in order to spit on a hankie and proceed to clean your face. I've witnessed both examples first hand, and all I can say is yikes! No wonder so many men find themselves going all Rip Van Winkle-like soon after entering the bonds of holy matrimony!
Do you have those pretty little semi-circle purple teeth marks all over your upper arms and shoulders? I remember those fondly. It's hard to keep from screaming and throwing the kid across the room when they chomp down, though, isn't it?
Been enjoying your blog for about a year now. I have a baby almost 2 months to the date younger than baby nice guy, so you were a great resource for what was around the corner for us!!=)
Boy do I have a biter!!! I have bruises all over my shoulder. Although I still haven't figured out why daddy doesn't get bitten??
I stumbled onto your blog a couple of weeks ago. Hope you don't mind me visiting. I have a little one myself (he just turned one), and a spouse with a terribly wicked sense of humor.
I feel your pain.
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I laughed so hard at this post, good thing I wasn't trying to sip tea while reading here!
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