That may very well be! I don’t like him to shop with me, though. First off, he has terrible taste. He either doesn’t have an opinion either way (in the case of house stuff) or every outfit he picks out for me screams “Two Dollar Whore”. He has a very difficult time understanding that those outfits are for when we play slap-n-tickle at home, and have no place on the street. So, yeah…I rarely ask him to shop with me.
Well, haven’t we all?
I give you the rare treat of driving a pair of octogenarians on the graveyard tour of Northwest Missouri – three days of boredom, blather, pointless reminisces, bad roads and bad fried food-- simply because my beloved need to appease her parents. Love hurts. But when it all over, the old folks are safely deposited at home, she pats your leg and says that you’re a good husband.
Hell, I already knew that!
You win!
When our visits with the in-laws have us staying over on a Sunday, I’ve often attended their fundie church with my wife, MIL, and other in-laws. Because you’re supposed to be in church on Sunday morning, don’t you know? And of course, that means their church, since church is practically extended family for them.
Unfortunately, their church is a typical fundie church - flag-waving, homophobic, with little digs (usually dishonest ones, too) in the sermon aimed at persons and groups to the left of the political center. It’s all I can do to keep from getting up and walking out. (Actually did once, many years ago, when we were there over the Fourth of July, and they said the Pledge of Allegiance in church.) And one of these days, I really am going to explain to Pastor Joe about the Ninth Commandment, the one that says not to bear false witness. But in the meantime, I grit my teeth and bear it.
Yeah, you know just the other day my hot model GF insisted that I have sex with her and her two hot model GFs.
I hated doing it, but because I’m such a stand up guy; I went ahead and did it anyway.
-Because that’s what love is all about.
Hate is a big word.
We both do lots of things for each other that we would not ordinarily do. That’s the way things work.
Right now, my Wife is training for a triathlon. She’s off riding, swimming and running most weekends, as she is right now.
I go with her for the short ‘sprint’ triathlons as support.
Today, I’m working on our trailer so that we can go down to Denver to buy some furniture tomorrow. Tomorrow is about the only way we can fit this in because of my Wife’s training. But that’s OK, it all needs to be done.
My brother in laws wife does triathlons too. He gave me and my Wife some good advice.
“Don’t forget, it’s just as hard on the support person as it is on the one in the race.”
My Wife can (and needs to) focus on two things. Training and the race. I get to worry about her, our dogs, our house, lodging, teaching her how to work on her bike, logistics of there and back, all the while I’m trying to put an addition on our house.
Now, my Wife is very good at the logistics. I know where I need to be and when I need to be there. But it is still quite stressful.
My Wife is 45 years old. She’s competed in 5 marathons. She’s slow, but she does it. The triathlon is a 2.2 mile swim, a 100 mile bike ride followed by a full marathon, 26.2 miles running.
She may be able to do that in under 17 hours which is the limit before you get kicked out of the race.
Next weekend. She will be doing the Triple by-pass. A 120 mile race over Mountain passes over 11,000 feet. I’ll drop her off and be waiting for here at the finish. The next weekend we will be in Boulder for a Olympic length tri.
I have told my Wife a number of times that “Just training for this and thinking about it makes you a winner. Whatever you do, don’t hurt yourself”.
It’s tough. But I love her.
Get revenge. Make her watch Yankees’ games.
She has gone to a few. She even enjoyed one of them. 
I’ve stayed outside in the cold with him working on his car for hours (no garage). 30 degrees out! I certainly hated the temperature, but I stayed out there with him, did a hot-chocolate run or two and tried to keep a smile with my chattering teeth.
Absolutely not. You do not do favors for your mate, you do it because you are a part of the family, the pack. She had the misfortune to break both hands, and I had to wipe her bottom. It was not a favor, it was a responsibilty, just like the time I got so sick from the flu that she sat up all night holding my head to make sure when I puked it went into the bowl, not back down into my lungs. In this pack there are no favors, just doing what needs to be done. No reasonable demand unanswered, no unreasonable demand made.
Disclaimer: it took thirty years and a divorce to get to this point, my first wife is also my second wife. What the hell, if after 15 years neither one of us found a mate, we must have been meant for each other…
That’s a great idea! I even have a box of food-service gloves somewhere (left over from a fundraiser where we sold food). I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before!
I’m acrophobic (fear of heights).
I joined my wife on the Extreme Sky Flyer.
That’s the arch-and-V construction visible in several decent photos on this page I Googled (I don’t know those people, found the page at random).
It’s pretty close to free-fall at first, then the rope goes taut and you’re swung through this gigantic arc of air, the only support being behind you where you can’t see it.
She realllllllllllllllllllllllly wanted to do this ride, and they give priority in line to pairs and trios over soloers.
It went pretty much like any direct exposure to a phobia does, except I paid money for it.
Afterward she asked me “Don’t you feel like a better person for having faced that?”
Yeesh.
But she does tell people the tale years later, with considerable relish.
Sailboat
WE DID THAT TOO! Wow. It’s something isn’t it. Ha, we had to pay the day before for tickets. That’s how they get ya. "Well, we already paid for it, so…
Roller coasters used to be my big fear. Now. Heh. Almost boring. My Wife and I hit them all.
When my dad died last year, he wasn’t found for five days. When we went to his house, the police had removed his body, but there was a big…puddle left in the spot where he died. My husband cleaned it up for us - he volunteered, we didn’t have to ask. If something was important enough to him to ask me to do it (especially if he knew I didn’t care for it), I’d have to have a good reason to turn him down (and vice versa). So, short answer to the OP - of course.