Bonus points if you can explain why you don’t change it.
Answering my own question: my tendency (shared with several of my sisters) to make jokes about the inevitability of our deaths. My wife does not think the subject is remotely funny.
This was brought up because of the death of a not-quite-family member.: my half-sister’s half-sister. There were no instructions on what do with the remains, and her immediate family argued about it. My youngest sister and I stayed out of it–because, after all, it wasn’t our sister–but we did decide to discuss what we want done with our bodies once we join the choir invisible. Rhymers being Rhymers, this morphed from a serious discussion of where I’d want my ashes scattered to a debate on whether I was more likely to become a vampire or a zombie, as I clearly wasn’t gonna go to heaven.
Mrs. Rhymer overheard part of this discussion, and it upset her. She does NOT find joking about my death funny in the least bit. Baby Sis and I explained that we’ve been making these jokes for years; our mother started it years ago. It’s the family way of whistling in the dark–but then we decided to talk about other things, so as not to be rude. (For the record, my other younger sister doesn’t think this is funny either and always got irritated when our mother would speculate jokingly on the best way to dispose of her (Mother’s) remains.
Primarily, my husband would make it so I communicate with him very explicitly. I don’t expect my husband to be able to read my mind, but sometimes when I think I’m being explicit, he doesn’t. For example, yesterday the doorbell rang while my husband was in the kitchen. I wasn’t dressed, so after yelling at the top of my lungs, “Hold on - we’ll be right there,” I called to my husband, “Hey, I think the garage guy’s here - I’ll grab little overly and get out of here so you can get the door.” My assumption was that he would assume that the guy was right there, at the door and would therefore go to the door. His assumption was that I meant, “Hey, there might be some guy outside near the house - he might even be the garage guy. The doorbell may ring, but you may want to open the door in a few minutes to check.” I had thought he heard the doorbell ringing and the subsequent pounding of someone at the door with me yelling. But apparently he didn’t even though I was just a room away. So the guy left. Fortunately it turned out to be the UPS guy who doesn’t generally stay anyway instead of the garage guy to fix our door, but it was still frustrating for both of us.
Oh, and another thing he’d change is to return me to the neat freak I was before we got married. Unfortunately his slovenliness grew on me, especially after our toddler was born, so unless I make a huge, regular effort to keep things clean, they devolve into chaos.
Oddly enough, my hubby and I were discussing this very thing about three nights ago. He said the only thing he would change about me is my health. I have chronic kidney issues (stones plus infections) that take me to the ER maybe 6-8 times a year, require surgical procedures 3-4 times per year, and keep me in bed sick maybe 20 days or so per year.
I don’t change it because I’ve yet to find a urologist or a nephrologist who has a workable solution (although my current urologist is talking about the possibility of removing the right kidney in the next few years).
Oh, he’d make me a fitness nut, and a neat-freak. Why don’t I change those things myself? Because I don’t want to. I don’t care to spend every moment of my non-paid-to-work life on exercise and house-keeping. Now if he wanted to do more house-keeping, then I’d have more time to dedicate to fitness…
Ditto for me- one of the main problems of our relationship is that he expresses dismay at my lack of self-confidence with incredulous disbelief which I generally take at face value as him being disappointed and impatient with me
Otherwise, he’d probably make me less of a night owl. I’m generally up until around 1am, whereas he’d want us both asleep by 11:30.
absolutely. The wife is MUCH more social than I, and it’s been an ongoing source of frustration for her. I/we have friends, we see each other regularly, but I have no real desire to fill my schedule with social events more than I do now. She on the other hand would schedule each and every weekend if she could.
[li]He’d stop me being a huge flirt – I’d stop, but I never realise I am doing it until I see that look on his face[/li][li]He’d stop me saying (as most women do) “I’m too fat, ugh” – I’m female, shoot me[/li][li]He’d stop me being so callous, cynical and unsympathetic – these qualities have served me well for 36 years, I have no desire to change[/li][li]He’d have me be more social – this would require a lot of training in social graces that I simply have no desire for at this time[/li][/ul]
Funny enough, all that said, the only thing I would change about him is his inability to prioritise well. While our priorities are (and should be) different on many things, some things – like making sure you get to work on time – should be universal. YMMV on that last statement.
He’d like me to be more athletic so I could inspire him to do the same. Bah, I never promised him a rose garden. If he wants to go skiing or to the gym, I’ll go, but I’m not going to freakin’ initiate it!
He’d take away these pesky things I have called “feelings”. He doesn’t really grok the whole “emotion” thing. I’ve certainly put forth enough effort that, were it possible to be completely devoid of emotion without removing part of my brain, it would have happened by now. But I gave up on that years ago. I’m a big ole crybaby sometimes. I’m okay with that.
Ditto on the depression, which would cover a whole slew of specific matters (me fretting about my appearance, me letting things affect me to the point where I’m reeling with sadness, me getting so tired when around big groups of people, etc.)
So wants me not to be a ‘clutter bug’.
Every surface in my spaces is covered in two or more layers of papers, coupons, spare reading glasses, half-filled water glasses, pens, unrecognizable parts, and empty dishes.
As to why I don’t change…??..I try, but I get distracted in the middle of things and leave stuff about.
At least I don’t leave actual food out to attract insects.
And I never leave stuff in common surfaces, like the kitchen counters or coffee table.
a.) He would probably enjoy seeing the end of my habit of piling my clean laundry on a chair instead of putting it away.
b.) He would probably also enjoy it if I went to bed when he does. He’s a big one for snuggling.
c.) And he’d probably like it also if I didn’t get such joy out of tickling him, and thus tickled him less.
My response to a.) is that when I moved in with him, I changed my formerly messy and chaotic habits into remarkably tidy ones, out of respect for him. (And also because it was something I’d been meaning to do anyway. High on my “Grow Up Someday” to-do list.) The laundry is the one hangover from my single-girl days that I haven’t banished–I FREAKIN’ HATE folding/hanging laundry and I just don’t get around to it very often. (To be fair, he never complains. In fact he refers to it with amusement. “Look, your pile has become a mountain! Oh look, it’s now a molehill!”)
As for b.)…I am a bartender and it’s virtually impossible for me to fall asleep before four or five in the morning at the earliest. I don’t even get home from work til then so even when I’m off, I’m a night-owl. He knows this. He just enjoys snuggling with me at bedtime.
As for c.)…well, dammit, he’s just such fun to tickle that I can’t help myself.