A vow of poverty?

gose to show that being married makes you go crazy

Why didn't they get one when they were first married? I needed an official copy of mine for all sorts of name changing and such just after marriage.

jumac: gose to show that being married makes you go crazy

Ah, I knew there had to be some explanation. :/

Hon, I don't think Ben is going to cut it. We should get a Pacific Islander.

YOU FARKING DUMBASS

Marriage: like Soviet prostitution. Whore screws you.

Since this already has the Sappy tag...

Mrs. RoBByBoy and I will celebrate our seventh anniversary this year, and I wish every guy who got married could be as fortunate as I have been to have such a wonderful wife. There's honestly nothing like waking up every morning next to my best friend in the whole world, looking forward to the next day in a lifetime spent together. In the words of Ben Folds, I know that I'm the luckiest.

Not every married man is miserable. Most of them, maybe. But if you've found the right one, you know that it's the best thing in the world.

Getting married was the happiest day of my life.

It got me away from the beer leeching barracks rats.

"We didn't think about it until we started talking about looking into an international adoption," Peterson said. "We're thinking about doing that sometime in the next couple years and decided to gather up all the documents we think we'll need."

Ahhh. They're going to get a little Chinese girl to be a friend for their boy. That is so trendy! I mean, everyone should have a little token Chinese girl. Let the stars have their African babies. Chinese girls are where it's at these days.

/There are lots of American kids that need adoption. Shop local.

Platonically Intense: Hon, I don't think Ben is going to cut it. We should get a Pacific Islander.

Bravo, sir.

The groom, 29 and a physical therapist, set about straightening out the mess.

groan

I know I've seen this episode before.

"My son Edwin lives in Wauwatosa."

/obscure?

nothing like waking up every morning next to my best friend in the whole world

Yeah. It was like that. Then I said "I do," and moved out of my apartment -- then things changed.

Everything I eat and everything I wear is criticized, unless she is allowed to choose it.

I no longer watch TV of my choice. I have recorded an entire season of The Daily Show and Bill Moyers NOW on my hard drive and it sits there unwatched. But I can tell you everything that has happened on The Bachelor and Project Runway.

I can no longer own porn, or if I do, I must treat it as contraband of the highest order. And to view it, I must wank furtively like a criminal. Frankly, I am less scared of being caught wanking at work by my boss. (Hypothetically speaking, of course.)

My websurfing is suspect. Before I click any link, I must consider if she is approaching, so as not to have to deal with her suspicion of why the page suddenly changed as she walked by. I must set Firefox to clear all browsing, cache, cookies, and form history.

My schedule is no longer my own. She determines all weekend plans, and "doing nothing" is never an approved plan. And if the plan is not met, she sulks.

Even at work, I must inform her hours in advance when I am leaving the office, and am expected to fulfull my estimate within 10 minutes. If I do not call when I leave, she rants.

Even on my commute, I must call her or answer her calls. I cannot tell her I would rather listen to NPR, Rachel Maddow or Dennis Miller.

Even on vacation, she chooses the itinerary, the hotels, and the schedule of events. I am sometimes consulted, however my suggestions must meet her approval.

If, when caring for our son alone, I don't make every childcare decision exactly as she would, I am guilty of neglect.

Because I am not willing to scour, dust, polish and vaccum every possible surface in the house, and organize my belongings to her approval, I am a slob, and my spaces are "stys."

And finally, I must carefully choose my words, considering all their possible interpretations. Because if there is one possible insulting or unflattering interpretation, no matter how unlikely or how far out of context, that is the inference she will draw.

And still, I love her dearly. I was a bachelor for 20 years before I was married, so these differences may simply be a matter of perceived contrast.

Or maybe not. :/

"If I'd a just killed you instead of marrying you, I'd be out of prison by now."

bughunter: My websurfing is suspect. Before I click any link, I must consider if she is approaching, so as not to have to deal with her suspicion of why the page suddenly changed as she walked by. I must set Firefox to clear all browsing, cache, cookies, and form history.

My schedule is no longer my own. She determines all weekend plans, and "doing nothing" is never an approved plan. And if the plan is not met, she sulks.

Even at work, I must inform her hours in advance when I am leaving the office, and am expected to fulfull my estimate within 10 minutes. If I do not call when I leave, she rants.

Even on my commute, I must call her or answer her calls. I cannot tell her I would rather listen to NPR, Rachel Maddow or Dennis Miller.

Even on vacation, she chooses the itinerary, the hotels, and the schedule of events. I am sometimes consulted, however my suggestions must meet her approval.



Im no expert, but she seems either like either the really jealous type, or someone with a guilty concience that wants to make sure you don't surprise her by showing up somewhere unexpected.

of course I could be totally wrong, women confuse me most of the time.

I tell my wife that I fall in love with her all over again every day.

I say I'm just a hopeless romantic.

She says it's the onset of Alzheimer's.

bughunter: And still, I love her dearly. I was a bachelor for 20 years before I was married, so these differences may simply be a matter of perceived contrast.

Or maybe not. :/

Your wife is a crazy biatch. Get a new wife that actually loves AND respects you.

/married woman

I'm with Fred Chan, Bughunter.

Take her to counselling. She is a controlling biatch and yer gonna wind up hating her, if you don't, secretly, already.

And if she won't go ...

Don't run, FLY ... And punch the afterburner.

bughunter, I had a wife just like that. Notice I used the term "had"

Even my kids understood why I left. And when they got older, they left that crazy biatch as well. Seriously, leave her. You will feel like the weight of the world has been lifted from your shoulders afterward.

bughunter: nothing like waking up every morning next to my best friend in the whole world

Yeah. It was like that. Then I said "I do," and moved out of my apartment -- then things changed.

Everything I eat and everything I wear is criticized, unless she is allowed to choose it.

I no longer watch TV of my choice. I have recorded an entire season of The Daily Show and Bill Moyers NOW on my hard drive and it sits there unwatched. But I can tell you everything that has happened on The Bachelor and Project Runway.

I can no longer own porn, or if I do, I must treat it as contraband of the highest order. And to view it, I must wank furtively like a criminal. Frankly, I am less scared of being caught wanking at work by my boss. (Hypothetically speaking, of course.)

My websurfing is suspect. Before I click any link, I must consider if she is approaching, so as not to have to deal with her suspicion of why the page suddenly changed as she walked by. I must set Firefox to clear all browsing, cache, cookies, and form history.

My schedule is no longer my own. She determines all weekend plans, and "doing nothing" is never an approved plan. And if the plan is not met, she sulks.

Even at work, I must inform her hours in advance when I am leaving the office, and am expected to fulfull my estimate within 10 minutes. If I do not call when I leave, she rants.

Even on my commute, I must call her or answer her calls. I cannot tell her I would rather listen to NPR, Rachel Maddow or Dennis Miller.

Even on vacation, she chooses the itinerary, the hotels, and the schedule of events. I am sometimes consulted, however my suggestions must meet her approval.

If, when caring for our son alone, I don't make every childcare decision exactly as she would, I am guilty of neglect.

Because I am not willing to scour, dust, polish and vaccum every possible surface in the house, and organize my belongings to her approval, I am a slob, and my spaces are "stys."

And finally, I must carefully choose my words, considering all their possible interpretations. Because if there is one possible insulting or unflattering interpretation, no matter how unlikely or how far out of context, that is the inference she will draw.

And still, I love her dearly. I was a bachelor for 20 years before I was married, so these differences may simply be a matter of perceived contrast.

Or maybe not. :/

SCHMUCK.

Juc: bughunter: My websurfing is suspect. Before I click any link, I must consider if she is approaching, so as not to have to deal with her suspicion of why the page suddenly changed as she walked by. I must set Firefox to clear all browsing, cache, cookies, and form history.

My schedule is no longer my own. She determines all weekend plans, and "doing nothing" is never an approved plan. And if the plan is not met, she sulks.

Even at work, I must inform her hours in advance when I am leaving the office, and am expected to fulfull my estimate within 10 minutes. If I do not call when I leave, she rants.

Even on my commute, I must call her or answer her calls. I cannot tell her I would rather listen to NPR, Rachel Maddow or Dennis Miller.

Even on vacation, she chooses the itinerary, the hotels, and the schedule of events. I am sometimes consulted, however my suggestions must meet her approval.



Im no expert, but she seems either like either the really jealous type, or someone with a guilty concience that wants to make sure you don't surprise her by showing up somewhere unexpected.

of course I could be totally wrong, women confuse me most of the time.

Ok his wife might be a tad bit paranoid, but I have a feeling it's just that he spends too much time on the net altogether. Spend some quality time with her, man. Whn you have kids, you will be BEGGING for that former life.

And as for wanting to control everything... that's just marriage. He just hasn't gotten used to it yet. My grandfather gave me advice to live by at my wedding... "Son, let the house, your kids, and everything relating to it be whatever she wants it to be. The way she wants to raise them, the way she wants to decorate, who does what chores, all of it. Don't argue about it, ever. Women need this. it's something at their core."

I'll be damned if he wasn't right. I couldn't resist putting in my own 2 cents in our firt year of marriage how I would prefer this, or that... I learned very quickly that my Grandfather was truly a sage.

RoBByBoy: Since this already has the Sappy tag...

Mrs. RoBByBoy and I will celebrate our seventh anniversary this year, and I wish every guy who got married could be as fortunate as I have been to have such a wonderful wife. There's honestly nothing like waking up every morning next to my best friend in the whole world, looking forward to the next day in a lifetime spent together. In the words of Ben Folds, I know that I'm the luckiest.

Not every married man is miserable. Most of them, maybe. But if you've found the right one, you know that it's the best thing in the world.

She's standing right behind you isn't she. Well if this is what it take to get you laid, good luck. After 17 years my wife would just call bs if I wrote that.

bughunter: nothing like waking up every morning next to my best friend in the whole world

Yeah. It was like that. Then I said "I do," and moved out of my apartment -- then things changed.

Everything I eat and everything I wear is criticized, unless she is allowed to choose it.

I no longer watch TV of my choice. I have recorded an entire season of The Daily Show and Bill Moyers NOW on my hard drive and it sits there unwatched. But I can tell you everything that has happened on The Bachelor and Project Runway.

I can no longer own porn, or if I do, I must treat it as contraband of the highest order. And to view it, I must wank furtively like a criminal. Frankly, I am less scared of being caught wanking at work by my boss. (Hypothetically speaking, of course.)

My websurfing is suspect. Before I click any link, I must consider if she is approaching, so as not to have to deal with her suspicion of why the page suddenly changed as she walked by. I must set Firefox to clear all browsing, cache, cookies, and form history.

My schedule is no longer my own. She determines all weekend plans, and "doing nothing" is never an approved plan. And if the plan is not met, she sulks.

Even at work, I must inform her hours in advance when I am leaving the office, and am expected to fulfull my estimate within 10 minutes. If I do not call when I leave, she rants.

Even on my commute, I must call her or answer her calls. I cannot tell her I would rather listen to NPR, Rachel Maddow or Dennis Miller.

Even on vacation, she chooses the itinerary, the hotels, and the schedule of events. I am sometimes consulted, however my suggestions must meet her approval.

If, when caring for our son alone, I don't make every childcare decision exactly as she would, I am guilty of neglect.

Because I am not willing to scour, dust, polish and vaccum every possible surface in the house, and organize my belongings to her approval, I am a slob, and my spaces are "stys."

And finally, I must carefully choose my words, considering all their possible interpretations. Because if there is one possible insulting or unflattering interpretation, no matter how unlikely or how far out of context, that is the inference she will draw.

And still, I love her dearly. I was a bachelor for 20 years before I was married, so these differences may simply be a matter of perceived contrast.

Or maybe not. :/

You sound so much like my ex best friend that I clicked your profile link to see if it was him.

He is my ex best friend because of his wife. Not because she was jealous of me per se. But because she so totally smothers him, makes him account for every second of his time, disapproves of every activity that isn't "family oriented" (including such evil pursuits as Bowie concerts and NHL or MLB games viewed at sports bars), and generally restricts his life as if he were a mental patient or a violent sex offender (so far as I know, he is neither).

I can't stand her. She ostensibly likes me, but I find her company tedious to say the least.

I hate it when a friendship bites the dust as a byproduct of henpecking. My husband has many friends, male and female, and many interests, and I really don't care how he spends his personal time so long as he doesn't forget his address. He's the same way with me, which is why we are happily married for 19 years.

My ex-best friend, on the other hand, will tell everyone he loves his wife, but I have it on good authority that he does not. Not really. And that's all I'm going to say about THAT.

The screwing he'll get will be the screwing he'll get.

bughunter: nothing like waking up every morning next to my best friend in the whole world

Yeah. It was like that. Then I said "I do," and moved out of my apartment -- then things changed.

Everything I eat and everything I wear is criticized, unless she is allowed to choose it.
I always cook mine what he wants at least 5 days out of the week.

I no longer watch TV of my choice. I have recorded an entire season of The Daily Show and Bill Moyers NOW on my hard drive and it sits there unwatched. But I can tell you everything that has happened on The Bachelor and Project Runway.
He gets control when he comes home because I go to bed later and watch what I want when he is alseep. Tivo helps.

I can no longer own porn, or if I do, I must treat it as contraband of the highest order. And to view it, I must wank furtively like a criminal. Frankly, I am less scared of being caught wanking at work by my boss. (Hypothetically speaking, of course.)
My porn collection rivals that of any man. We watch it together.

My websurfing is suspect. Before I click any link, I must consider if she is approaching, so as not to have to deal with her suspicion of why the page suddenly changed as she walked by. I must set Firefox to clear all browsing, cache, cookies, and form history.
See above.

My schedule is no longer my own. She determines all weekend plans, and "doing nothing" is never an approved plan. And if the plan is not met, she sulks.
He works his butt off and I am home with the kids. Weekends are usually his choice, which means gaming.

Even at work, I must inform her hours in advance when I am leaving the office, and am expected to fulfull my estimate within 10 minutes. If I do not call when I leave, she rants.
We text and have phone sex when he works. Its fun!

Even on my commute, I must call her or answer her calls. I cannot tell her I would rather listen to NPR, Rachel Maddow or Dennis Miller.
My man has a life and is busy.

Even on vacation, she chooses the itinerary, the hotels, and the schedule of events. I am sometimes consulted, however my suggestions must meet her approval.
Not even close. I hate the beach and we are going there next month because he needs it.

If, when caring for our son alone, I don't make every childcare decision exactly as she would, I am guilty of neglect.
He is a great father.

Because I am not willing to scour, dust, polish and vaccum every possible surface in the house, and organize my belongings to her approval, I am a slob, and my spaces are "stys."
As long as he does not treat me like a maid, I am good.

And finally, I must carefully choose my words, considering all their possible interpretations. Because if there is one possible insulting or unflattering interpretation, no matter how unlikely or how far out of context, that is the inference she will draw.
My favorite romantic song is Crazy biatch by Buckcherry. Because its true.

And still, I love her dearly. I was a bachelor for 20 years before I was married, so these differences may simply be a matter of perceived contrast.

Or maybe not. :/

Um honey, no. That's wrong.
/12 years and still going strong
//he is the MAN of the house, but we do make decisions together.
///loves my man cause he makes me very happy everywhere especially the bedroom.

RoBByBoy: Since this already has the Sappy tag...

Mrs. RoBByBoy and I will celebrate our seventh anniversary this year, and I wish every guy who got married could be as fortunate as I have been to have such a wonderful wife. There's honestly nothing like waking up every morning next to my best friend in the whole world, looking forward to the next day in a lifetime spent together. In the words of Ben Folds, I know that I'm the luckiest.

Not every married man is miserable. Most of them, maybe. But if you've found the right one, you know that it's the best thing in the world.

Agreed. 20 years here, I still think it's the best decision I ever made.

Sure, you give up a bit of freedom but that's inherent in sharing your life with someone, you have to schedule for two people, not just one.

bughunter:
Everything I eat and everything I wear is criticized, unless she is allowed to choose it.

All she ever objects to is stuff that's clearly junk anyway.

I no longer watch TV of my choice. I have recorded an entire season of The Daily Show and Bill Moyers NOW on my hard drive and it sits there unwatched. But I can tell you everything that has happened on The Bachelor and Project Runway.

She watches what she wants, I watch what I want. No problems.

I can no longer own porn, or if I do, I must treat it as contraband of the highest order. And to view it, I must wank furtively like a criminal. Frankly, I am less scared of being caught wanking at work by my boss. (Hypothetically speaking, of course.)

A complete non-issue here.

My websurfing is suspect. Before I click any link, I must consider if she is approaching, so as not to have to deal with her suspicion of why the page suddenly changed as she walked by. I must set Firefox to clear all browsing, cache, cookies, and form history.

Way too intrusive on her part.

My schedule is no longer my own. She determines all weekend plans, and "doing nothing" is never an approved plan. And if the plan is not met, she sulks.

I normally let her schedule things but it simply has to do with her being the one with the most scheduling needs. If I need some piece of time I simply tell her, no problem. This is simply being practical given our lives.

Even at work, I must inform her hours in advance when I am leaving the office, and am expected to fulfull my estimate within 10 minutes. If I do not call when I leave, she rants.

She always likes to know but if I don't know that's how it is. Busted schedules are only an issue if I leave her waiting somewhere.

Even on my commute, I must call her or answer her calls. I cannot tell her I would rather listen to NPR, Rachel Maddow or Dennis Miller.

I normally answer calls anyway--I'm one of three that's going to get the call when the computers act up and in many respects I'm the only one who can deal with them.

Even on vacation, she chooses the itinerary, the hotels, and the schedule of events. I am sometimes consulted, however my suggestions must meet her approval.

We rarely have an itinerary. She chooses hotels because she's pickier. Most of the time we are in areas where she's far more at home than I am and so of course I leave it up to her--she knows what I like and would actually prefer I make more decisions in that regard.

If, when caring for our son alone, I don't make every childcare decision exactly as she would, I am guilty of neglect.

We agreed on the only decision we made in that regard: the choice to be childfree.

Because I am not willing to scour, dust, polish and vaccum every possible surface in the house, and organize my belongings to her approval, I am a slob, and my spaces are "stys."

This is the only one of your list I agree on.

And finally, I must carefully choose my words, considering all their possible interpretations. Because if there is one possible insulting or unflattering interpretation, no matter how unlikely or how far out of context, that is the inference she will draw.

It's happened a couple of times over the years and we have more misunderstandings than most couples--she learned her first word of English as an adult.

And still, I love her dearly. I was a bachelor for 20 years before I was married, so these differences may simply be a matter of perceived contrast.

Or maybe not. :/

Not.

Juc: bughunter: My websurfing is suspect. Before I click any link, I must consider if she is approaching, so as not to have to deal with her suspicion of why the page suddenly changed as she walked by. I must set Firefox to clear all browsing, cache, cookies, and form history.

My schedule is no longer my own. She determines all weekend plans, and "doing nothing" is never an approved plan. And if the plan is not met, she sulks.

Even at work, I must inform her hours in advance when I am leaving the office, and am expected to fulfull my estimate within 10 minutes. If I do not call when I leave, she rants.

Even on my commute, I must call her or answer her calls. I cannot tell her I would rather listen to NPR, Rachel Maddow or Dennis Miller.

Even on vacation, she chooses the itinerary, the hotels, and the schedule of events. I am sometimes consulted, however my suggestions must meet her approval.



Im no expert, but she seems either like either the really jealous type, or someone with a guilty concience that wants to make sure you don't surprise her by showing up somewhere unexpected.

of course I could be totally wrong, women confuse me most of the time.

She's a control freak. The husband missed the clues, which were probably obvious to everyone else, while dating.

I was at work a couple of months ago, and a bickering couple were in front of me ordering a product. Actually, it was the wife doing all the bickering and the passive husband just saying "yes dear". This went on for about ten minutes, with her biatching interrupting the sale. Apparently this is so normal for her, she didn't even care.

Maybe she notice the looks I was giving her. She left and said she was going shopping around the mall. The biatch calls him not 5 seconds later ON THE CEL PHONE. To biatch at him without me being able to hear. While he is still standing there with me, waiting for me to finish with him. I can hear every nitpicky, whiney, never-ending crying thing she says.

She sounded like a precious princess who grew up and married a regular guy and had never come to terms with it.

Amazing. I could see him cheating, just because he didn't have the man-nads to divorce her and tell her to STFU to her face.

/Female.

Cerebral Ballsy: I was at work a couple of months ago, and a bickering couple were in front of me ordering a product. Actually, it was the wife doing all the bickering and the passive husband just saying "yes dear". This went on for about ten minutes, with her biatching interrupting the sale. Apparently this is so normal for her, she didn't even care.

Maybe she notice the looks I was giving her. She left and said she was going shopping around the mall. The biatch calls him not 5 seconds later ON THE CEL PHONE. To biatch at him without me being able to hear. While he is still standing there with me, waiting for me to finish with him. I can hear every nitpicky, whiney, never-ending crying thing she says.

She sounded like a precious princess who grew up and married a regular guy and had never come to terms with it.

Amazing. I could see him cheating, just because he didn't have the man-nads to divorce her and tell her to STFU to her face.

/Female.

I hate women like that almost as much as I hate the men who put up with that crap.

The Mind Boggles: Cerebral Ballsy: I was at work a couple of months ago, and a bickering couple were in front of me ordering a product. Actually, it was the wife doing all the bickering and the passive husband just saying "yes dear". This went on for about ten minutes, with her biatching interrupting the sale. Apparently this is so normal for her, she didn't even care.

Maybe she notice the looks I was giving her. She left and said she was going shopping around the mall. The biatch calls him not 5 seconds later ON THE CEL PHONE. To biatch at him without me being able to hear. While he is still standing there with me, waiting for me to finish with him. I can hear every nitpicky, whiney, never-ending crying thing she says.

She sounded like a precious princess who grew up and married a regular guy and had never come to terms with it.

Amazing. I could see him cheating, just because he didn't have the man-nads to divorce her and tell her to STFU to her face.

/Female.

I hate women like that almost as much as I hate the men who put up with that crap.

In 32 years of living I've never seen a woman like that before. Pobably never will see one that bad again.

Not to advocate violence or anything, but I would have to slap that infantile girl. That was not a woman, but a girl. GROW UP!

HL, FTW.

Cerebral Ballsy: The Mind Boggles: Cerebral Ballsy: I was at work a couple of months ago, and a bickering couple were in front of me ordering a product. Actually, it was the wife doing all the bickering and the passive husband just saying "yes dear". This went on for about ten minutes, with her biatching interrupting the sale. Apparently this is so normal for her, she didn't even care.

Maybe she notice the looks I was giving her. She left and said she was going shopping around the mall. The biatch calls him not 5 seconds later ON THE CEL PHONE. To biatch at him without me being able to hear. While he is still standing there with me, waiting for me to finish with him. I can hear every nitpicky, whiney, never-ending crying thing she says.

She sounded like a precious princess who grew up and married a regular guy and had never come to terms with it.

Amazing. I could see him cheating, just because he didn't have the man-nads to divorce her and tell her to STFU to her face.

/Female.

I hate women like that almost as much as I hate the men who put up with that crap.

In 32 years of living I've never seen a woman like that before. Pobably never will see one that bad again.

Was probably my ex and her new fellah.

towatchoverme: Was probably my ex and her new fellah.
I just remembered what she was whining about. Her parents were to meet them for dinner. He had missed their call. she spent.. I am not kidding.. about 30 minutes harping on him for missing their call, and for forgetting that tonight they were meeting with her parents. His responses were like "Of course we can meet your parents", and she'd say "Well it sounded like you wanted to go to X restaurant. That is no good for my parents. We must go to Y restaurant" him: "Ok, we;ll go to Y restaurant" Her: "I can't believe you didn't hear their call!" Him: "I didn't hear the phone ring, dear" Her: "Because it's not important to you. We'll have to eat with them at Y restaurant" Him: "Of course we can go to Y restaurant" Her: "I absolutely cannot believe you missed their phone call!!" Him: "The phone was in my pocket, I don't know how I missed it" Her: "It's because secretly you don't want to go to dinner with my parents. You know, X restaurant is no good. We need to go to Y restaraunt" Him: "Sure. Y restaurant. Whatever you want, dear".

She just kept going in a circle with the sh*t. It was driving me insane.

bughunter: nothing like waking up every morning next to my best friend in the whole world

Yeah. It was like that. Then I said "I do," and moved out of my apartment -- then things changed.

Everything I eat and everything I wear is criticized, unless she is allowed to choose it.

I no longer watch TV of my choice. I have recorded an entire season of The Daily Show and Bill Moyers NOW on my hard drive and it sits there unwatched. But I can tell you everything that has happened on The Bachelor and Project Runway.

I can no longer own porn, or if I do, I must treat it as contraband of the highest order. And to view it, I must wank furtively like a criminal. Frankly, I am less scared of being caught wanking at work by my boss. (Hypothetically speaking, of course.)

My websurfing is suspect. Before I click any link, I must consider if she is approaching, so as not to have to deal with her suspicion of why the page suddenly changed as she walked by. I must set Firefox to clear all browsing, cache, cookies, and form history.

My schedule is no longer my own. She determines all weekend plans, and "doing nothing" is never an approved plan. And if the plan is not met, she sulks.

Even at work, I must inform her hours in advance when I am leaving the office, and am expected to fulfull my estimate within 10 minutes. If I do not call when I leave, she rants.

Even on my commute, I must call her or answer her calls. I cannot tell her I would rather listen to NPR, Rachel Maddow or Dennis Miller.

Even on vacation, she chooses the itinerary, the hotels, and the schedule of events. I am sometimes consulted, however my suggestions must meet her approval.

If, when caring for our son alone, I don't make every childcare decision exactly as she would, I am guilty of neglect.

Because I am not willing to scour, dust, polish and vaccum every possible surface in the house, and organize my belongings to her approval, I am a slob, and my spaces are "stys."

And finally, I must carefully choose my words, considering all their possible interpretations. Because if there is one possible insulting or unflattering interpretation, no matter how unlikely or how far out of context, that is the inference she will draw.

And still, I love her dearly. I was a bachelor for 20 years before I was married, so these differences may simply be a matter of perceived contrast.

Or maybe not. :/

Allow me to take this moment to dedicate Pink Floyd's "Run Like Hell" to bughunter.

Tell me please you don't live in a community property state. If that's the case, see what happens to Ned Beatty's character in "Deliverance" for a primer on what will happen to you in court.