The Bungle Years: I used to be a man

I used to be a man. I used to be as tough and rugged as anybody.

For example, when I was in high school, I had a part-time job as a janitor at a bakery. At the end of each shift, I would heat up the mop water on the stove. One particular day, I put just a little too much water in the pot, which made it heavier than I could handle. When I attempted to poor it into the mop bucket, my grasp slipped and I spilled boiling water on my ankle, giving me a third-degree burn. Did I go to the hospital? Did I leave work and go home? No, sir! What did I do? I finished mopping the kitchen, because that’s what real men do.

Side note: Once I smashed a guitar while wearing a Karl Malone jersey. That was also pretty manly.

But ever since I have gotten married, my manliness has started to crumble brick by brick. Just two weeks ago, I took an entire day off of work because I had a tummy ache. How bad was it? Was I dizzy? Did I throw up? Did I pass out? Nope, my tummy just ached. Did I seriously just use the word “tummy”? What is happening to me?

I think it all begins with the first dinner your new wife cooks for you. After several years as a bachelor, I kind of forgot that there was other food than the same foods I had been making for myself. In fact, it had been so long since I had lived with my parents that I also forgot it was possible for other people to make food for me. I remember walking into the kitchen a couple days after we got married and saying, “How did this food get on the table?”

“I made it for you,” my wife replied.

“What are these green sticks?”

“Those are green beans.”

“These don’t taste like flesh? What animal are these made from?”

“It’s a plant, sweetie.”

“Are those edible?”

Side note: I now keep a tri-folded napkin on my lap during dinner. It’s not very manly, but it’s effective.

It’s all just a trap, the food just the beginning. Once she gets you to start enjoying the greens sticks, she starts changing other things too. For example, the other day, we had “company” over to visit. Single readers, don’t confuse friends with company; there are big differences between the two. When I was single, I had friends over. When friends come over, you order a pizza and play video games. When company comes over, you clean the house and visit.

Side note: “Visit” is a term used by women which means to discuss breastfeeding with their married friends while their husbands sit in painful silence.

It all changes. I have gone from an independent, free-thinking cement wall of manliness to a tummy-aching wussy who likes to visit. Oh well, at least I have somebody to make green sticks for me.

Side note: But if any of you want to order a pizza and play video games, please let me know.