Stuff My Wife Does

Oh Crap She’s Done it Again

Tony Hogan — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 22:22:55 +0000

It’s been pretty hot lately, and with eighty nine percent humidity, it’s a little uncomfortable. It was Australia Day yesterday, for some that means backyard cricket, sausages (snags), zinc cream on the nose, thongs ( no not the swim suits – jandals, those plastic fashion statements for people with no fashion taste) , barbies (not the doll in pink, the one that snuggles up to Ken) = Barbecues, tinnies (not the tin boats) but Fosters, XXXX, VB and other ales at a reasonable temperature inside a beer holder, a panting dog and kids running around jumping through a sprinkler.

So there we were, not doing the Australian thing, we, StuffMyWifeDoes type of female and myself in the car, green trees, long grass, flowing streams, trees dripping drops because it had just stopped raining. Picture book stuff going on around us, people pay big money to come to places three minutes where we happen to live. After a few days of intense heat and humidity it finally stopped. As we meandered along looking out the windows, dodging tree branches, holes in the road a few stray animals here and there, I thought ‘Wow, this is so nice here. I looked at Mrs Stuff’ and said “hey it’s nice out here, I love how cool it is”. She looked at me and said “We’ve got the air conditioning on”. When I got out of the car I almost fell over from the heat. I said “yeah right”

My Wife is Always Right This Time

Tony Hogan — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 05:26:25 +0000

I was wandering around the supermarket filling up the trolley with random items, tofu in teriyaki, tofu ice cream, tofu shaving cream and tofu batteries, and then I found myself standing in the health food aisle. The town I live in has more reincarnated vegetarians than any place outside of the South of India… all shapes and sizes, Buddhists, Hare Krishnas, Seventh Day Adventists, Vegans, members of ufo and water people cults, and groups that you would not believe existed…this means that the health food aisle is a whole aisle, not just token shelves of food supplements in brown bottles or green boxes with beautifil people standing next to waterfalls.

I had noticed the shampoo and conditioner was starting to disappear at home, I think my son was using it as bubble bath or something, so I decided to get some more, something that I could hide in the cupboard and would be there when I need it. After about ten minutes of carefully reading the ingredients and looking for the most humanly and environmentally friendly sales pitch on a label I could find, I made a decision and put it in the trolley. And just then my dear wife enters the aisle with a pile of groceries, looks in the trolley and then with a puzzled expression looks up at me and said, “Why are you getting that?” I said, ”We need it”, She said , “No we don’t”. I said, “Yes we do”. She said “No we don’t”.. .. so we played verbal see saw for quite some time. Then she looked at me when I least expected it and asked ” Why are you buying pet shampoo?”

Ummmm thanks darling

My Bicycle is Wrong

Tony Hogan — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 10:34:19 +0000

My wife is the resident health freak in my house. Even though she says she can’t swim, I’m inclined to disagree. On Friday we were at the local swimming pool for an afternoon swim because it was about 40 degrees Celsius (104F); the beach is quite a distance, about 22 minutes and 17 seconds up a few roads. I’d hit the point where I’d had enough of staring into the sky doing my upside-down-butterfly-backstroke, the 50 metre pool was closed because of eight year old kids that looked like Ian Thorpe training, so we had to swim in the 25 metre indoor pool, I äsked my non-swimming wife, ”How much longer will you be?” Her response was, “I’ve still got 40 laps to go ”.

So after many years of watching her move through Yoga, Swimming, Pilates and various other exercise routines, tortures and sports, I decided to get myself a pushie (Bike). I managed to score a you-beaut (Australianism for ‘this is a good item’) mountain bike at the right price. My wife is the resident health freak expert in our house, my personal history involves Rugby Union, Rugby League, so much time in the surf that my dream home has sheets made of cotton and sand, and Tai Chi (the real one not the womens mag stuff) , I generally consider whatever she said to say on any personal sporty issue other than any type of footy, as a truth of some sort. Forgetting that in 20 years I’d only seen her peddle a bike about six or seven times.

I took her downstairs to see my new bike and was I beaming with a smile like a ten year old; she told me to hop on it and show her how good it was, really she wanted to see me fall off. She looked at me very seriously, and said “It’s too big for you”. I thought, oh crap, just bought a brilliant bargain second hand bike and it’s too big, mind you I had just ridden it four kilometres home, and had already dropped the seat down an inch or so, I felt disappointed.

Next day I headed down to the bike shop, and in a round about sort of way I asked about the bike, what it was worth, what needs upgrading, being concerned it might miraculously self combust or automatically ride on the wrong side of the road. Then I slipped in “My wife says it’s too big for me”. The people in the shop just looked at me with one of those looks like “are you kidding, are you an apprentice moron or a real fully qualified one?”, that was after they had stared at each other in amazement, I could see their thought bubbles in harmony saying “oh we’ve got a real bright one here”.

I jumped on the bike, rode home and said “no, the bikes the right size”. She looked at me and said “No, I’m not riding it, it’s definitely too big”.

The Waitress Blamed Me

Tony Hogan — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 02:26:19 +0000

Today I went for a bike ride downtown to have coffee, it’s Sunday all is quiet. As I was about to leave my wife said “don’t go yet”. I said “Why”, she said”Because I need a head start, you’ve got a bike and you’ll get there before me”. So I rode slowly.

We had a coffee, but asked for an extra bottle of water, we have a coffee at a place that has magic water, well at least to the people who run it. To me it tastes like water, but I often wonder whether there is mescaline in it and whether a few hours later I’d seeing Inca Gods. Nothing so good or bad has ever happened to me yet, but I’m always on edge.

So we finished our coffee, I went to pay the bill. When I came out there was water all over the table and my wife was no where to be seen. The waitress just winked at me, gently grabbed me on the arm and said “You asked for water so you could splash it all over the table and I’d have to clean it up”. Meanwhile I’m standing there trying to work out whether I’d knocked it over when I got up to pay the bill.

I hopped on my pushie, headed around the corner and my wife looked at me, handed me my mobile and said “Oh sorry, I just spilt some water on your phone”

Grrrrrr