Pass The Donuts, Daver. Pass ‘Em Here.
There was a commercial awhile back, I don’t remember what it was for really-perhaps a bank?–in which a man offers to paint his (presumably) wife’s toenails. The tag line was “Because you’re not THAT GUY” (THAT GUY being the one who paints toenails), and it made me laugh.
Because I totally married THAT GUY.
I’ve never actually asked him to paint my toenails, but he swears up, down and sideways that he would if I did. In the past he’s also volunteered to help me shave my delicate lady bits when a burgeoning stomach is preventing me from taking care of the ole undercarriage properly, and would probably shave my legs if I begged. Or bribed. Whatever.
This omission makes him sound like a complete and utter pushover, who without a complaint, says “yes dear” to anything, EVERYTHING I say, but it’s simply not true. (SADLY. I WAAANT A PONY.) People who haven’t shared a lot of time with us together have remarked that Dave is “pussy-whipped” or perhaps “Becky wears the pants in THAT marriage,” but it’s just wrong. They miss the indelicate back and forth that Dave and I tend to do in private.
He does call me fuckface or asshead when the moment strikes and the kids aren’t awake, and he does so unapologetically. And I’ve never seen him shy away from me unless I was especially hormonal and chasing him around with a butcher knife. Which is funny, because we HAVE NO BUTCHER KNIFE.
And being THAT GUY doesn’t mean that he does any of the following:
*Hanging up his laundry
*Throwing his socks down the laundry chute
*Remembering any present buying holiday ahead of time
*Ever buying an anniversary card
*Ever calling to tell me he’ll be late UNTIL he’s already late as hell
But he’s THAT GUY all right.
How do I know this for sure? Well, The Daver is suffering once again from Couvade Syndrome. Otherwise known as a sympathetic pregnancy. It happened when I was pregnant with Alex, and his donut consumption may or may not have been responsible for his elevated cholesterol, and it’s been happening since I got pregnant with Amelia.
While his behavior when stricken with a Man Cold (which pretty much involves moaning a lot, reminding everyone within a 20 yard radius that he HATES to have a cold, and sniffling deeply whenever I ask him to take out the trash, and generally being a pain my in ever-loving ass) leaves much to be desired and may be the only time I delicately suggest that he go to work by kicking him out of the house and locking the doors, I’m lucky that this is not indicative of his behavior while “pregnant.”
This isn’t to say that he religiously reads “What To Expect While You’re Expecting” book-marking the relevant chapters (we don’t even own it) or dreams up color combinations for the nursery, hell, he’s barely interested in baby clothes or deciding on a middle name for our daughter. No, he’s just as emotionally labile as I am these days. And is nearly as interested in donuts and hot dogs and squishy chocolate deserts.
Honestly, I find the whole situation rather adorable. After being pregnant by a dude who was downright abusive during the whole gestation, it’s such a refreshing change of pace for me. If you’d told the pregnant-with-Ben me that I would one day find a man who was going to be pregnant with me, I’d have rolled my eyes bitterly and probably laughed without any humor behind it.
At that point in time, I’d have settled for a guy who was even remotely interested in his child and not interested in sticking his penis in other women. His TINY penis.
(sorry, I had to)
It reminds me that I hit the jackpot when I met Dave, something I’ve always been acutely aware of. Sure, we might not ever be the romantic couple of the romantic comedy genre, we may never refer to what happens between the sheets as “making love” unless we were trying to be sarcastic and make the other laugh, and we may never compose love letters OR poemes, but it doesn’t matter to me. It never mattered to me.
Anyone who shares a fleeting 9 month obsession with encased meats and sweets is more than enough for me.
Haha the only time I’ve said “making love” with a straight face was in my Ten blog post cause I knew I’d be emailing the text doc to my mom. Hilarious.
My husband is that guy about some stuff. But definitely not about picking up after himself, not throwing his jeans/shoes/socks everywhere like he’s got laundry tourettes or I dunno, REMEMBERING TO GET ME ANYTHING AT ALL FOR OUR TENTH ANNIVERSARY OR ANY PRESENTS FROM KEY WEST. Sigh.
I guess he’d shave my cha cha if I asked him. There’s a thought.
omg you two sound JUST like Dan & I…. all of it.
…and the ONLY time I have been able to get my toenails painted by him was when I was pregnant and could not reach my feet!
You summed up my feelings for my hubby very well. I like to remind my ever critical mother, that he may not be “perfect,” – he’s “perfect for ME!” But that’s my baggage, or Old Bag as I like to refer to her.
Congrats on finally finding the lid for your pot. You know what I mean.
Em
P.S. I LOVE the name Amelia!
Oh, yes — I love Amelia, too!
(And I can’t NOT giggle without saying Making Love. It sounds like something done only on soap operas.)
You have trained him well, me dear.
Why do dogs lick themselves??? Because they can!
Women are from Venus, men are like dogs.
Daver is the best. You are lucky lady.
Women are from Earth, men are from Penis. That’s what I say.
Anyway, whatever works for each couple is what works.
I like the sound of the Daver.
I too gained 15 lbs during my wife’s pregnancy from eating donuts, ice cream and a variety of fine salted meats. And I think I read up on and knew more about her pregnancy than she did. And I still giggle whenever I read or hear the phrase “bloody show.”
But despite all that, MJ and I have never been accused of being Ozzie and Harriet. In fact, people tell us they one day expect to see us in a domestic dispute on COPS. But like you guys, they don’t see the balance we have behind closed doors.
Some people just click…even if that click is reminiscent of the sound that is made when cocking a gun! 😉
nothing says “i love you” like a pair of panel pants for pregnant woman. you should get dave a pair!
You are a lucky girl. It’s a shame that people think that a guy that does nice things for a woman is pussy-whipped. Would they rather see them slap us around a little bit? It’s a good thing they do some nice things for us, otherwise we’d kill them for leaving their socks on the floor.
My other half is THAT GUY, too, and even though he exasperates me with his laundry on the floor and ottoman in front of the TV, I wouldn’t trade him for anything.
And “make love” actually causes me to roll my eyes so strenuously that I give myself a headache. Too many Danielle Steel novels as a youth? 😉
Well, my husband wouldn’t paint my toenails if I was pregnant or not because he has a thing about feet, but OMG, I completely forgot he took care of ‘the lady business’ while I was pregnant with the kids! That’s hardcore love!
sounds like a match made in heaven. making whoopie is about as far as I ever got….
No need to apologize for a Nat-bitch-slap. Those are always welcome around here. LOL.
E’s just now getting around to losing his baby weight. After I lost mine. Bwahahaha.
And that Daver. He’s always out to out-do you, isn’t he? Love him.
My man would totally paint or shave anything I asked him to … because it gets him OFF! Does it count if it’s completely motivated by sex drive and selfishness? In a really good way?
We adore each other. But my best friend can’t be around us more than 10 minutes without breaking down in tears and asking us to “stop fighting” because we remind her of her parents. ??!! My goodness. That’s just casual conversation for us. Productive communication at it’s finest.
Making love? Is that like cutting hearts out of construction paper and gluing paper doilies on them?
I prefer fucking, myself…
Seriously, I think you AND the Daver are very lucky people.
You hit a nerve for me with the Man Cold. I got up and walked across the room and slapped Mike in the head. Just to cover the day he will get another Man Cold. You know it’s coming. It’s almost winter.
It sounds like you may have gotten a good one there Aunt Becky – tiny penis notwithstanding. He does sound like a keeper. Do people actually call it making love? Really? Cause I honestly call it the f word. Sorry, but I do. Sometimes Mike says, “you wanna fool around?” And, um, NO. I take it pretty seriously. Thankyouverymuch.
Awww… Dave sounds like such a catch.
And there’s nothing wrong with having THAT GUY traits. My husband cooks, cleans, and he dyes my hair for me when I ask him to. He brings me booze and chocolate when I’m writing and I haven’t asked for it but secretly REALLY need it.
And yet he has a temper and he can be an utter asshole. And we make fun of eachother all. day. long.
Sounds familiar? 😉
He sounds like a keeper.
My husband tried to help me out by painting my toes during my second pregnancy… I love him for trying, but really, not his forte.
heh heh
Sounds like you are an amazing match!!
Ah…I love stories about The Daver. And I LOVE the name Amelia. It’s beautiful and feminine, but it sounds like the name of a girl who doesn’t take any crap!
Apparently I am also having a sympathetic pregnancy with you.
Yes, that will be my excuse for the brownie I am about to eat…
I liked that you had to assure us he calls you ‘fuckface’ every now and then.
One more thing!! I love the new (?) subtitle. I am drinking a vodka martini right now and yes – vodka is the vodka of the masses.
I just posted another post – and you are given some linky love. And no, you don’t need an antibiotic for that.
Not that Dave isn’t an awesome guy. I’m sure he is.
But a love of encased meat and sweets is not a rare thing for a man. Just sayin’.
Oh yeah … the Daver’s Da MAN! (And so is mine). We must be lucky like that!
That’s great – I am forcing my husband to read this post, now,
BTW – Awesome name, Amelia!!!!!
Aw! So sweet, Becky style. And I love Amelia, Monkey’s belly buddy’s name is Amelia.
I am married to a guy who will shave my legs for me without me asking. Not because he’s trying to be nice, but because he’s sick of me stabbing him with the hair in my sleep!
We are by no means Ozzie and Harriet either. We might actually be worst than Ozzie and Sharon to be honest! We just “are” and that’s what works for us!
More power to you and the Daver for being “that” couple!
It’s a real gentleman who will offer the proer care for the nether regions when it all seems a bit of ah reach shall we say.
Most of those types disappeared with the guy that would wash your windshield and pump your gas…ah the good ole days.
Here’s to the Daver for taking such good care of Aunt Becky…and for never doing anything as silly as making love to her, wink wink.
sorry, should say “out” of ah reach
You’re a lucky pair! As much as he drives me crazy, Munky is my other half – the “can’t put dishes in the dishwasher, won’t give the kids a bath, says it’s all my fault for having kids” half. But he does vacuum and wash all the floors, so I’ll keep him around. Heh.
That is the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever heard you say.
Pass me a Kleenex.
My husband does not bring me flowers or candy for Valentine’s Day. He can barely remember to turn his socks right side out when he takes them off. His snoring sounds like a freight train in the house. BUT, many years ago, when I was enormously pregnant……I was taking a shower and he came into the bathroom to kiss me goodbye. Apparently my nose was a bit runny. Instead of saying “GROSS!”, he grabbed a towel, gently wiped my nose, kissed me goodbye. I could die from the romance of it. It was over 8 years ago and it still brings a tear to my eye.
By the way, we do not “make love”….we “get lucky”.
My brother in law painted my sister’s toenails when she was too pregnant to do it herself. And I thought it just added to his awesomeness.
I’d be shocked if I ever met a couple that was straight out of a romantic comedy!
I got so lucky on mine too, 17 years and he’s sweeter than ever. And he lives to groom my undercarriage.
*Don’t tell my husband what I’m about to type* My husband shaved my legs and my lady bits. Either he was tired of me whinnying about not being able to see or bend enough to shave both, or he was tired of looking at both. Side not: I was pregnant during the summer and walked around mostly without clothes. I can’t really blame him for grabbing me by the hair and tossing my fat ass in the tub to shave me. My husband and I are a lot like Daver and yourself, we hardly EVER whisper sweet romantic nothings in each others ears. I’m SO glad you have someone to be pregnant with you, it’s awesome! *claps* Have a great day!
-D
My husband is also THAT GUY. And any of the things that irritate me melt away when he does the things that make him THAT GUY. Not that I don’t yell at him in the moment for the irritating stuff.
I hit the jackpot, too. 🙂
You are indeed a very lucky woman.
How terribly sweet! Your man sounds a lot like my man…just a down to earth, loving, kind, give all he can to his partner kind of guy.
As for the shaving the lady bits…I actually asked my man to do that for me many times while pg lol! Hey…you can work it into the foreplay lol!
Take care Ms. Aunt Becky!
What, Fuckface and Asshead aren’t romantic? Come on. If those aren’t terms of endearment, what are?
My husband is evidentally being sympathetic with your pregnancy, too, as he eats for two day after day after day. He’s always been into shaving the netherlands, though!
Great. Now you made me crave donuts…again. Thanks.
BTW–You totally have it made with Daver.
THAT GUY sounds awesome!
Dave reminds me a lot of my husband. Oh, and we call each other cute, affectionate names like Asswipe and I occasionally beat the crap out of him.
And since I can no longer see my crotch unless I’m looking in a mirror or doing a painful combination of bending and squatting, he’s gonna have to do the shaving for me until this baby makes her debut. And trust me, he’ll do it. If he ever wants his penis to go down there again.
I love Dave more and more 🙂
And no need to apologize for the “tiny penis”…we’ve all had and felt that same way once (or twice!)
Hold the phone. HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE!!!!!!! I know I’ve been absent but since WHEN.THE.HELL did you decide on a baby name????????????????
I know you took suggestions a while back and I may or may not have told you to go with “Bacon” (you could never love anything more than someone named Bacon) but I didn’t know you made a decision. I am really, really upset to have missed this moment. I am sorry, I know this was a gushy post about The Daver being all awesome ‘n shit but I picked up on that ‘Amelia’ reference right away.
Although I love, LOVE the name Amelia, I am now going to search for a plastic bag to pull over my head. I am THAT upset about having missed this moment in baby gestating/blogger relationship times. *sigh*