Friday, March 27, 2015


One of my friends called me the other day to tell me she’d just bought a new swimsuit for her upcoming trip to Florida.  When she tried it on for her husband and asked him how she looked, his comment was, “You don’t look that bad.”

All I can say is the poor man sure has a lot to learn about women. He probably thought he was giving his wife a compliment, but what he doesn’t understand is we women hardly ever hear things the way men want us to hear them.

I mean, if a man told me, “You don’t look that bad,” what I’d actually hear is, “You don’t look that good, either!” 

My friend’s phone call made me start thinking about all of the things my husband used to say to me, meaning one thing, and how I’d interpret his words to mean something entirely different. To illustrate my point, consider the following examples:

HE’D SAY:  “Is this a new recipe for pot roast?  It tastes different tonight.”

I’D HEAR:  “Why the heck did you have to mess around with the pot roast?  I liked it just the way it was!”

HE’D SAY:  “Looks like you have a little zit there, popping out on your forehead.”

I’D HEAR:  “Ohmigod! You have a hideous, disgusting growth on your forehead that looks like a third eyeball!  If I were you, I’d cut my hair into bangs to hide it!”

HE’D SAY:  “Thank you for the shirt, sweetheart.  It’s too nice to wear to work, though, so I’m going to save it only for special occasions.”

I’D HEAR:  “That’s the ugliest shirt I’ve ever seen.  And if I have my way, the special occasion will be my funeral!”

HE’D SAY:  “Is that new makeup you’re wearing?”

I’D HEAR:  “You have so much paint on your face, it’s a wonder people on the street aren’t stopping to ask you if the circus is in town.”

HE’D SAY:  “Have you had the oil in your car checked lately?”

I’D HEAR:  “If I didn’t remind you to get your oil checked, you would wait until it looked like black molasses and the engine burst into flames before you realized something was wrong…because you know absolutely nothing about cars!”

HE’D SAY:  “There’s nothing good on TV tonight.”

I’D HEAR:  “There are no shows that contain half-naked women, bloodshed, zombies, super heroes or car chases, and I would rather have all my chest hairs plucked out with tweezers than be forced to watch one of those mushy shows you like.”

HE’D SAY:  “You’re looking good!  Your diet is really paying off!”

I’D HEAR:  “Your butt doesn’t look like the back end of a Greyhound bus any more. It’s more SUV-sized now.”

HE’D SAY:  “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of that harmless little spider!”

I’D HEAR:  “It’s only the baby. The mother is 10 times bigger and is still lurking somewhere in the house. She’ll probably climb down the front of your nightgown while you’re sleeping tonight and will inflict a bite that will cause you to puff up like a bright red version of the Michelin Man.

HE’D SAY:  “Let’s go out to eat. You pick the restaurant.”

I’D HEAR:  “If it’s any place other than somewhere where I can get a greasy burger and fries and not have to pay more than $20 for the total bill, then I will complain throughout the meal and also probably will embarrass you – like the time I was served squab at a wedding and commented that it looked as if someone had killed Heckle and Jeckle.”

HE’D SAY:  “I don’t know if I can make the party this Friday night because I might have to work overtime.”

I’D HEAR:  “I will volunteer to do every job at work, even scrubbing urinals, just to get out of going to another one of your friends’ boring parties.”

HE’D SAY:  “Well, I kind of had my heart set on us going up to a cabin in the mountains for our vacation this year, but if you really want to take day trips and visit the doll museum and the flower show instead, then that’s what we’ll do.”

I’D HEAR:  “I REALLY want to go to the doll museum and flower show!”
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