Author Topic: So I Married an Axe Murderer  (Read 45919 times)

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Offline ChrstnHsbndFthr

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #40 on: November 17, 2013, 11:09:30 PM »
  I jusyt asked the wife if she knows how to fols a fitted sheet and of course Mrs. I know everything does and yes she pretreats and a stain in anything just drives her to distraction.

   Since I don't give a crap about stains I will leave the house in anything I happen to have on at the time which freacks her out because she feels it reflects on her.

   I on the other hand don't care what a world full of people that don't know me or I them think about the damned stain on a T SHIRT.

  She's tried for 41 years to get abudge out of me on that but so far I wear whatever I have on to any damned place I need to go.


   Soup I'm hanging here type something already!!

I think my wife pronounced my current shirt dead last night. I managed to save it one more day by wearing it to Sunday services too, but it was endangered on Saturday night, when she spotted a stain...or noticed a stained spot....whatever....I lose more shirts this way. On the other hand, the sauce was good
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Offline LadyVirginia

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #41 on: November 18, 2013, 11:09:15 AM »
I've never really understood all the angst that accompanies laundry. 
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Offline Libertas

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #42 on: November 18, 2013, 11:18:01 AM »
Kinda like the obsession over dirt...I never got overly concerned over that...and then I started noticing Democrats...
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Offline John Florida

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #43 on: November 24, 2013, 03:45:53 PM »
  Soup are you done?  ::whatgives::
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Offline Alphabet Soup

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #44 on: November 29, 2013, 11:17:18 PM »
“You what?!”

“I said I don’t like turkey so we’re not having it for Thanksgiving!”
 
What a way to start the holiday. My mom loved food. She loved cooking and she loved eating, and she loved to see her family enjoy a meal. I don’t think that there was a food she didn’t like, including some stuff I considered truly revolting. My dad was a meat & potatoes kind of guy. Give him a meatloaf and mashed potatoes and he was in heaven. I fall somewhere in between but lean way nearer to my mom. When my mom took an oriental cooking class we (teenaged) kids eagerly looked forward to her bringing her homework home to the table. It was neat to try new things and even if they weren’t exactly exotic they seemed exotic to our palates.

And I knew enough about kids – including remembering back to being a kid – to know what finicky eaters they can be. And fickle too. They can rave about a dish one time and then turn their nose up at the very mention of it ever afterward. They can want Mac & Cheese for every meal for a month and then never want to see it again. And mostly they can reject the very notion of a food without ever having sampled it. Kids are susceptible to (negative) suggestion so responsible people don’t go out of their way to “poison the well” by needlessly building in biases against food.

The thing that irritated me most was that she went out of her way to teach and encourage her food bigotry to our kids. She would mock and taunt them whenever they ate something that she didn’t like. She would tell them that they (or anyone else out of earshot) were “stupid” to like something she didn’t like. Apparently the whole world was screwed up when it came to food, and she was the balanced one – or so she would have you believe.

I never met anyone (before or since) who was more finicky about food than she was. Food, condiments, preparation, presentation, anything and everything having to do with food. I could tell you about her dislikes but it is (almost) easier to simply list would she would eat. As I said my dad had a limited repertoire of food but the difference between the two of them was that he didn’t choose to visit his limitations on the rest of us. She did – routinely.

At one point after high school she took a summer job in a pickle factory. As a result she wouldn’t allow pickles in the house because she couldn’t stand the smell of the brine. Vinegar made her gag so it had to be kept out in the garage. Same with lemon. Even though you couldn’t smell the contents of a sealed container the mere presence would trigger the gag reflex.
So she didn’t like turkey (what else was news?!). Why was it such a big deal? Because if she didn’t want it then we didn’t have it. It didn’t matter what anyone else wanted, liked, or could eat. If she didn’t like it, it would never be on our table.

Instead we typically had a pork roast or ham. Of course I had no objection to those entrées – but I was raised to have turkey at Thanksgiving and anything less felt like robbery.

It didn’t stop with the turkey (of course). Corn and green beans were the only vegetables she would eat. Both had to be S&W canned brand - frozen “tasted funny” and any other brands were simply “gross” in her estimation. Any other vegetable was summarily dismissed as disgusting. There was never any experimentation – ever. If there wasn’t a McD’s or a Burger King around she would go hungry. I prefer Coke but if I’m in the mood for a soda I’ll drink (almost) anything. For her it was Dr. Pepper or she did without. And it had to be ice cold. Anything less and she did without. No ice – if it was served with ice she sent it back. Oh, and a straw. God help you if you served her a drink without a straw. We kept a case of straws in the cupboard so she wouldn’t be without. The bendy kind.  I was indifferent to them and the kids weren’t allowed to use them  so they were for her exclusive use (except for when she would go out in which case I’d let the kids have one).

She didn’t like milk so the kids didn’t get milk. They had the audacity to refuse to eat cereal in water (yechh!) so she would make them eat toast for breakfast. I discovered these individual portions of oatmeal and those were allowed (thank God!).

Like I said, presentation counted as much as content. Foods must not touch. If they somehow came into contact the plate was immediately scraped and she would start over. Foods had to be consumed individually and completely. She wouldn’t touch anything else on her plate until the salad was completely gone. Then the vegetable. Then the mashed potatoes. Then the meat. She would invariably drink 21/2 glasses of water with a typical meal. She was afraid of chemicals in the water so we always had bottled water (for her). Casseroles were verboten because she couldn’t tell what might be in them – and the notion of all those different kinds of food touching one another must have been unnerving.

The ameliorating factor came with being in a large family. That meant that quite often we spent the holiday with one family or another (sometimes shuttling between households in order not to slight anyone). I took a small cruel pleasure at her ill-ease during these outings because my family was normal and so was most of hers. So when we visited she was stifled (ever so slightly). She still would sneer at family members and criticize their food preferences but it was a lot more subdued.

For our little family the celebration of Thanksgiving usually came as an acknowledgement that we had endured another one without a major blow-up.


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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #45 on: November 30, 2013, 02:04:25 AM »
There was never any experimentation – ever.

Foods must not touch.

Okay, those two comments stuck out.

I have a pretty tasty Brussels sprouts recipe I created.  (Talk to LV about that one.)  My ex would never allow me to alter that recipe in any way, nor allow me to cook Brussels sprouts in any other way.  Sometimes I felt like a short order cook who had to recreate recipes exactly while my inclination is to be freewheeling in the kitchen, a place and a time to be creative.  Boring versus adventurous.  Boy do I understand that.  I'll try anything once, and if I like it I'll have it again (grilled cow stomach, e.g., which I thought would be gross but was actually quite delicious, almost grilled calamari-like in texture; the beef lung I wasn't so thrilled with).

As for the food not touching nonsense, I empathize.  That is childish behavior and would drive me crazy.  How do you make decent Chinese without different foods touching each other?  I thought I had it bad, but your stories take the cake (with or without ice cream touching the cake).

I also feel bad for your kids.  Not having milk?  With cereal?  For some reason, I've known quite a few women who do not like milk (maybe they thinks it's cannibalism?), yet women need the calcium as they are more prone to osteoporosis than men are; I still guzzle milk to this day.  And who needs a glass for milk?  That's what the carton is for.  When I was working, I used to keep a quart of milk (half gallon in the summer) in the little fridge in our department, even though there was free milk for the coffee in the 'kitchen' serving our floor.  Why?  Because I drank a lot of milk and didn't think it was appropriate to drink the coffee milk; I felt like a thief if I did that.
« Last Edit: November 30, 2013, 04:01:44 PM by RickZ »

Offline AlanS

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #46 on: November 30, 2013, 08:40:48 AM »
Seems to me she leads a miserable existence and wants to spread the misery to others.

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Offline John Florida

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #47 on: November 30, 2013, 06:48:23 PM »
“You what?!”

“I said I don’t like turkey so we’re not having it for Thanksgiving!”
 
What a way to start the holiday. My mom loved food. She loved cooking and she loved eating, and she loved to see her family enjoy a meal. I don’t think that there was a food she didn’t like, including some stuff I considered truly revolting. My dad was a meat & potatoes kind of guy. Give him a meatloaf and mashed potatoes and he was in heaven. I fall somewhere in between but lean way nearer to my mom. When my mom took an oriental cooking class we (teenaged) kids eagerly looked forward to her bringing her homework home to the table. It was neat to try new things and even if they weren’t exactly exotic they seemed exotic to our palates.

And I knew enough about kids – including remembering back to being a kid – to know what finicky eaters they can be. And fickle too. They can rave about a dish one time and then turn their nose up at the very mention of it ever afterward. They can want Mac & Cheese for every meal for a month and then never want to see it again. And mostly they can reject the very notion of a food without ever having sampled it. Kids are susceptible to (negative) suggestion so responsible people don’t go out of their way to “poison the well” by needlessly building in biases against food.

The thing that irritated me most was that she went out of her way to teach and encourage her food bigotry to our kids. She would mock and taunt them whenever they ate something that she didn’t like. She would tell them that they (or anyone else out of earshot) were “stupid” to like something she didn’t like. Apparently the whole world was screwed up when it came to food, and she was the balanced one – or so she would have you believe.

I never met anyone (before or since) who was more finicky about food than she was. Food, condiments, preparation, presentation, anything and everything having to do with food. I could tell you about her dislikes but it is (almost) easier to simply list would she would eat. As I said my dad had a limited repertoire of food but the difference between the two of them was that he didn’t choose to visit his limitations on the rest of us. She did – routinely.

At one point after high school she took a summer job in a pickle factory. As a result she wouldn’t allow pickles in the house because she couldn’t stand the smell of the brine. Vinegar made her gag so it had to be kept out in the garage. Same with lemon. Even though you couldn’t smell the contents of a sealed container the mere presence would trigger the gag reflex.
So she didn’t like turkey (what else was news?!). Why was it such a big deal? Because if she didn’t want it then we didn’t have it. It didn’t matter what anyone else wanted, liked, or could eat. If she didn’t like it, it would never be on our table.

Instead we typically had a pork roast or ham. Of course I had no objection to those entrées – but I was raised to have turkey at Thanksgiving and anything less felt like robbery.

It didn’t stop with the turkey (of course). Corn and green beans were the only vegetables she would eat. Both had to be S&W canned brand - frozen “tasted funny” and any other brands were simply “gross” in her estimation. Any other vegetable was summarily dismissed as disgusting. There was never any experimentation – ever. If there wasn’t a McD’s or a Burger King around she would go hungry. I prefer Coke but if I’m in the mood for a soda I’ll drink (almost) anything. For her it was Dr. Pepper or she did without. And it had to be ice cold. Anything less and she did without. No ice – if it was served with ice she sent it back. Oh, and a straw. God help you if you served her a drink without a straw. We kept a case of straws in the cupboard so she wouldn’t be without. The bendy kind.  I was indifferent to them and the kids weren’t allowed to use them  so they were for her exclusive use (except for when she would go out in which case I’d let the kids have one).

She didn’t like milk so the kids didn’t get milk. They had the audacity to refuse to eat cereal in water (yechh!) so she would make them eat toast for breakfast. I discovered these individual portions of oatmeal and those were allowed (thank God!).

Like I said, presentation counted as much as content. Foods must not touch. If they somehow came into contact the plate was immediately scraped and she would start over. Foods had to be consumed individually and completely. She wouldn’t touch anything else on her plate until the salad was completely gone. Then the vegetable. Then the mashed potatoes. Then the meat. She would invariably drink 21/2 glasses of water with a typical meal. She was afraid of chemicals in the water so we always had bottled water (for her). Casseroles were verboten because she couldn’t tell what might be in them – and the notion of all those different kinds of food touching one another must have been unnerving.

The ameliorating factor came with being in a large family. That meant that quite often we spent the holiday with one family or another (sometimes shuttling between households in order not to slight anyone). I took a small cruel pleasure at her ill-ease during these outings because my family was normal and so was most of hers. So when we visited she was stifled (ever so slightly). She still would sneer at family members and criticize their food preferences but it was a lot more subdued.

For our little family the celebration of Thanksgiving usually came as an acknowledgement that we had endured another one without a major blow-up.


   God bless you. Did you stay cause of the kids?
All men are created equal"
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Offline LadyVirginia

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #48 on: November 30, 2013, 11:29:43 PM »
Yes, thanks to RickZ, Brussels sprouts are now one of my favorite vegetables! And my daughter loves them too.

AS, your ex reminds me of my mother. She wasn't as extreme but she has so many requirements to get through the day.  Any and every thing is worthy of comment and criticism.

Food is VERY important to my mom.  She approaches every meal as if it's her last.  This does not make for a joyful occasion. Just the opposite. It means that the potential for trouble is HUGE.

For me the food is secondary.  Gatherings are about being with those I care about. 
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Offline Alphabet Soup

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #49 on: December 04, 2013, 11:32:21 PM »
Barbie Meets Godzilla

(In case you hadn’t noticed there’s a whole motif going on with the story titles ;’)

Who would have thought a few ounces of plastic and fabric could cause so much angst. I could never see the attraction myself (you would be picking your jaw up off the floor if I said that I did ;’) – but the kids dearly loved them. Over several seasons they accumulated a half dozen or more. They would trade them – and the blizzard of clothes – back and forth all the time. My mom would meticulously pick out new outfits for her granddaughters (note the plural) Janie (my daughter from a previous marriage) and Lisa (my stepdaughter). Lisa's grandma would lavish her granddaughter with an endless array of stuff. Everyone except my (then) wife and MIL could see the inequity and deliberate slight to my kid. I caused one particularly nasty row one time by pointing it out.  She became defensive and antagonistic but was otherwise indifferent.

Wifey had chronically gotten the short end of the stick growing up – or so she had convinced herself. So she was consumed with scores to settle. I don’t think that she ever figured it out that she was fighting ghosts. It seemed that the better the situation we built for ourselves (AKA I built for us) the more irrational and combative she became. Without a clear and obvious enemy to target her aggressions against she instead chose those closest to her. Both of her “parents” (I use the term loosely) were more than a little dysfunctional but they managed to conceal it beneath a schizophrenic camouflage of pseudo-generosity and contempt. They had made her who she was but somehow (mostly) escaped her wrath. But I’m straying…

I can no longer recall which xmas it was that we first started buying the collector Barbies. My recollection was that we saw them at Toys~R~Us.  They were the same size doll as the ones we had been buying but they were a “deluxe” model with themed outfits and accessories. And they were spendy! Random hadn’t come along yet so the tradition started with two individual dolls. Each subsequent year we would obtain two more. We never purchased duplicates. The curious thing was that, although they were gifted to the kids, they would be grabbed back up after the grand unveiling and placed on the top shelf of our closet – for safekeeping of course.

They really were pretty little things. The girls just loved them….from afar. And why not? They made a gorgeous presentation with their little outfits and their elaborate cases. At various times the girls would attempt to seek permission to play with them but they were always denied. And so they took position on the top shelf, silent sentinels to a distorted sense of compassion. And soon enough forgotten.

In the spring of ’94 when my dearly beloved conspired to separate me from my home, my children, and my property I had one brief moment when I could rescue some of my and my daughters’ possessions. I jumped at the opportunity and grabbed up what I could. As I raced through “our” bedroom I spied the discarded treasures on the top shelf. I knew that some of them belonged to my daughter. I couldn’t recall which ones. I also knew that if I didn’t take custody of them my daughter would never see her property ever again.

So I snatched up the whole works.

Later I reunited them with my daughter. Talk about an anti-climax! She no longer cared. She had never been allowed to give a damn about them and so now that she was free to possess them it was too late.
The magic was dead.

She and I made arrangements to return Lisa’s to her and my daughter gave hers away to Lisa. Later I heard that Lisa, who was similarly weary of “look but don’t touch”, gave them to Random – who left them with her mother. Full circle and a pyrrhic victory for the ice queen.

What’s more pitiful than a child’s toy that is never played with?


Offline Libertas

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #50 on: December 05, 2013, 06:42:21 AM »
You related to John in any way?   ;D

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Offline Septugenarian

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #51 on: December 05, 2013, 10:51:51 AM »
Yeah, I knew someone who just couldn't be happy without a good mad on.  What a waste of time and effort.
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Offline LadyVirginia

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #52 on: December 05, 2013, 02:19:50 PM »
Quote
What’s more pitiful than a child’s toy that is never played with?

Yes, sad.

And most of those "collector" Barbies are now worth less than they sold for originally.
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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #53 on: December 05, 2013, 03:52:17 PM »
One of my close lady friends never had a Barbie as a child, so a few Christmases ago, I got her one of the "collectibles", just because.  She cried.
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Offline LadyVirginia

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #54 on: December 05, 2013, 03:54:04 PM »
One of my close lady friends never had a Barbie as a child, so a few Christmases ago, I got her one of the "collectibles", just because.  She cried.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh
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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #55 on: December 05, 2013, 05:14:42 PM »
My mom used to try and pull that "I'm buying these toys for a keepsake" bullsh*t. I would make a point to make sure the kids were playing with them in front of Grandma so she'd get the message.

Once she went to some craft fair and bought some handmade old fashioned wooden puzzles; The kind with 5 or 6 distinctly shaped objects, made for toddlers. She gave them to my boys and told me that she wanted them to be put away so the boys could give them to their children.

I laughed, hard. My mom got mad, but WTF? You buy wooden puzzles for your 2 & 3 year old grandsons and then say, "Psych! They're not yours!" Bullsh*t. Collect your own damn stuff.
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Offline LadyVirginia

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #56 on: December 05, 2013, 05:51:32 PM »
My mom used to try and pull that "I'm buying these toys for a keepsake" bullsh*t. I would make a point to make sure the kids were playing with them in front of Grandma so she'd get the message.


My mom's of the wrap-it-in-tissue-paper-to-save-it mindset.  Her dresser drawers are full of stuff she's "saving". She's made comments to me that if she gives us something she wants us to keep it "nice".   ::pullhair::  Can't tell you how many lectures the kids have gotten about keeping something nice. 

I read a story years ago about a woman who after her mother's death found the set of china her mom was saving for a special occasion.  It had never been used because her mom wanted to keep it nice and save it. The woman was pretty sad that the china had never been used.

What's special to me are the things that are used and that I associate with a certain person. The stuff my mom is squirreling away she would be crushed to know won't mean that much to me other than she wanted me to have it after she died.
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Offline Libertas

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #57 on: December 05, 2013, 06:50:09 PM »
Collectibles, especially chick stuff, seems to garner better value if you have the original box it came in.  I never got that...it's cardboard, it's worthless...but I am a guy, I buy something to use and toss the rest...

And guys are accused of being "packrats"?   ::whatgives::
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Offline Alphabet Soup

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #58 on: December 05, 2013, 06:57:11 PM »
Collectibles, especially chick stuff, seems to garner better value if you have the original box it came in.  I never got that...it's cardboard, it's worthless...but I am a guy, I buy something to use and toss the rest...

And guys are accused of being "packrats"?   ::whatgives::

Thanks - your post will be the foundation for my next chapter.

Offline Libertas

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Re: So I Married an Axe Murderer
« Reply #59 on: December 05, 2013, 07:33:09 PM »
Collectibles, especially chick stuff, seems to garner better value if you have the original box it came in.  I never got that...it's cardboard, it's worthless...but I am a guy, I buy something to use and toss the rest...

And guys are accused of being "packrats"?   ::whatgives::

Thanks - your post will be the foundation for my next chapter.

 ::whoohoo::
We are now where The Founders were when they faced despotism.