Tag: Wife

Categories
Family

Poem: On how Rekha & I got married

Rekha Rajan couple photo

This is less of a poem and more of a ballad. This is the story of how Rekha and I met, our evil intentions, and how Rekha turned the tables on me.

How I brought your mother back

When I first saw her,
She was wearing something blue.
I thought: “I will take her out,
And all my dreams will come true.”

Back then,
My dreams weren’t that good.
Lunch was at Velu Military Hotel*,
Little costly, but my wallet withstood.

Tipping a magnanimous Rs 5,
On my Yamaha, off we went.
I dropped her at her hostel,
Two hours well spent.

“Which way do you go to office?”
She asked as I kicked my bike to a start.
“Via your hostel, everyday”
Was my reply, very smart.

“Here is my number,” she said.
And I gave her mine.
I corrected myself on the bike,
And off I rode; on the seat a stiff spine.

Ah! Will take her around for six months,
And then dump her.
One more month to find another girl,
And into her ears, my love I will purr!

The next day, she called me at eight.
Five months and twenty-nine days to go.
Many such days went by,
Finally, it was only one more day to stow.

Rekha beat me to it. She asked:
“Rajan, shouldn’t we get married?”
“What? No way!” I replied.
“I am dude. Love, I have never carried!”

I was somebody who believed in quickies,
With Rekha cut off, I was happy.
I could now look for another girl.
But for no reason, I started feeling scrappy!

Rekha refused to see me.
Far apart we grew.
Single again,
I looked for a girl to woo.

That’s when office gossip told me:
Somebody from Lowe Lintas was the bridegroom.
Rekha was to meet him,
In Hotel Sangeeta’s Family Room.

“How could this happen?” I asked my roomie.
He only let out a smirk.
I drank four beers.
And got to work.

I rang her father, but didn’t have the balls.
I called Rekha 17 times, but she didn’t answer.
I reached the hotel, and waited outside.
Jealousy filled me like cancer.

After an hour,
They came out. Shook hands.
He got her an auto & got in too.
The Earth below me turned to sands.

He dropped her at her hostel.
I had followed. From safe distance.
I was drunk with both beer & love.
This double drunk needed assistance.

After smoking five cigarettes outside,
I rode my Yamaha home.
Got into my bed and cried.
“I want Rekha as my bride!”

Next day, I told her.
What a fool I was to refuse her.
I apologized.
“Let us get married. I concur.”

She refused to accept my apology.
But quietly refused that Lintas groom.
It took me six more months,
Before Rekha would give me any room.

Six months later, she sat on my bike
I was love struck.
I didn’t want anybody else,
She was my lady luck!

After one more year of pleading
She agreed to marry this boy.
We were one happy couple.
I was Achilles and she my Helen of Troy.

It has been fifteen years since we met.
There have been ups and downs.
We aren’t that young anymore,
And have both gained our pounds.

But even today,
When I leave for office,
I kiss her on her forehead.
And that’s as good as my day would get.

No, wait!
That was before I became a house-husband,
Now she goes to office and gives me a list,
And if I do them right,
In the evening, I get kissed.

Important: Rekha, if you are reading this you should know that your husband didn’t have enough money to buy you the World but tried his best. If only his girl friend had lent him some money he would have got you a nice, expensive gift. But that bitch refused!

*Velu Military Hotel still exists at Nungambakkam, Chennai and its specialty is the way they show available non-vegetarian dishes for you to choose. To see their display, click here.

Categories
Family

Australian Zebra Finch Birds – my first pet at age 35 years

Australian Zebra Finch Birds

Rekha has never liked animals. Or birds for that matter. Or fish. She would eat them, but to see them alive give her the creeps.

You probably ask, “If she was so allergic to animals, how come she married you?” Well, my answer is that before marriage I did behave like a human.

Though there were times when she called me a Dog. You got to give it to Rekha for being appropriate – she never addressed me as a dog in front of strangers & relatives. It was reserved for occasions when we were alone – especially when we were in the bedroom.

“You are a dog. Can’t you understand a simple ‘No’?”

“Why are you behaving like a street dog? I am your wife….behave like a gentleman.”

Till the day I decided to get a German Shepherd in the house, I didn’t know that Rekha hated animals. Unfortunately, the only questions I had asked her before our marriage were:

“How much money can your parents pay me if I get married to you?”

“How much money does your father have?”

“Do you have any younger sisters, if yes, is she pretty?”

“How many of your kins do we have to divide your father’s wealth with?”

As happens with most husbands, before marriage I didn’t asked the most important question: “Do you like animals in the house?”

I have always wanted to have pets at home. As a child our parents had trouble feeding the three of us – me and my two sisters – so they didn’t prefer pets. The moment I got a job and became independent, I wanted to get a pet but I had to travel every weekend to Madurai…which meant the pet had to be locked inside the house for two days. So no pet was possible, till I was alone.

The moment I got married, I decided to pursue by life long dream.

“Rekha, we should get a pet for the house.”

“Why Rajan? We just got married – I am your pet…and you are mine. Why do we need a third pet?” Rekha was as seductive as she could be. I fell for it and forgot pets for a year.

With time, we stopped being each other’s pets. That’s when I decided to ask Rekha again.

“Rekha, how about we bring a German Shepherd home?”

“What do you mean German Shepherd?” Rekha didn’t understand my question.

“Let me be straight…can a German Shepherd stay in our house? I responded in haste.

Rekha started blushing. This surprised me. But I waited for her to say something. After the blood had rushed down her face and down her neck…she regained composure and said: “Since reading Paulo Coelho’s Alchemist…I have always wanted to meet a traveling Shepherd. Now that we are short on love….a traveling Shepherd could mix things up.”

“This is a German Shepherd!” I shouted.

“Yeah yeah…. Paulo Coelho says all Shepherds are the same. So get him home. Let us have some fun,” Rekha said.

Before leaving I told Rekha that I shall be back in an hour with the German Shepherd. She looked excited and told me that she will prepare an extra room for him.

Guess, this was my hint – so she wanted a male dog.

I immediately went to a pet store and bought a male German Shepherd puppy. On the way I even decided to name him Paulo Coelho since my wife seemed to like the name so much.

I don’t know what hit me once I reached home. After 30 minutes of shouting at each other I learned a few things: That Paulo Coelho was a philosophical writer who wrote a book called Alchemist in which a shepherd goes around cities loving women. And that Rekha was excited to host him in our house, hoping it would bring back some love in her life.

Needless to say, I had to return the puppy and get my money back.

After this incident, I never brought forth the topic of pets. It has been five years since. Whenever tempted, I would just go to the Facebook Game Farmville and tend to my pet.

In the last few months the urge for pets has cropped up again, thanks primarily to our daughter Rhea. She loves animals and birds and fish – just like her dad.

So, two months back I asked Rekha: “How about a pair of rabbits for Rhea?”

“Alive?” Rekha inquired without looking up from the Adrian Mole series book she was reading.

“Yes alive. It will be a jail-within-a-jail experience for the rabbits….for we will get a cage as well.”

Guess, Rekha didn’t like my sarcasm, but she continued to be polite.

“Rajan, we live in Gurgaon….and we only have AC in our bedroom. How will the rabbits survive in this heat?”

“You don’t need to worry about that – they already have hare conditioning!” I tried to joke. We Rajans rely on our jokes to get things done. And more often than not it helps.

“OK fine…let us say we do get one. How long do they live – what if they die after a year? Wouldn’t Rhea be devastated?” Rekha was looking for reasons to not have rabbits in the house.

“But Rekha, we can always tell the pet shop owner that we don’t want rabbits with gray hare!”

Rekha wasn’t amused by this as well. After an hour long discussion, which also included Rekha throwing the Adrian Mole book at me, we agreed that we won’t get rabbits in the house.

———X——–X———

About a week back, I saw that Snapdeal.com had a great deal – a pair of Australian Zebra Finch birds for just Rs 350. Without consulting Rekha, I bought them for Rhea. Once all three of us – me and the two birds – reached home, I was confronted.

I might as well have brought home a pretty secretary. The cold war took a few days to subside. It has been a week since and both my daughter and wife like the birds now.

Someday, I hope to have a German Shepherd as well in my house….but for that I need my daughter to grow up a little so that she can hold back my wife when she throws herself at me with a knife in her hand.

For now, you can check out my daughter’s reaction on seeing Australian Zebra Finch birds as her first pet.

Categories
Sex

How sex between husband and wife gets affected because of kids

Husband Wife Couple Making Out Session

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Bill Cosby, George Carlin, Richard Pryor, Peter Russell – what’s common among them all? For the not-so-trained-an-eye, it would seem as if the common thing between them is the lack of sex in their lives.

Do you know why only stand up comedians don’t get enough sex? Let me let you in on a little secret. Nobody gets enough of it but it is only the stand-up comedian who complains about it in front of a crowd.

One doesn’t need to be an acclaimed stand up comedian for your sex life to be screwed up….it is enough if you are an aspiring stand up comedian as well.

I remember we would have a go at it at every available opportunity. Just so you are aware, once we celebrated Rekha making round rotis (for my non-Indian readers, that’s bread) with a half hour session on the cemented floor. I also remember the time when we had successfully carried a table fan bought from Saravana store, T-Nagar, Chennai – on my bike me riding and Rekha sitting behind me and holding the table fan. Though tired to the bone, we celebrated the moment we were home by switching on the table fan and enjoying in its fresh breeze.

Back then it was spontaneous. And back then, it was more.

Nowadays, things have changed. Only yesterday, I was with Rekha as she was making the morning tea and said: “When we got married you didn’t know cooking. Remember, how I taught you to cook?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Nowhere. Just wanted you to NOT forget your teacher,” I insisted.

“Just in case you don’t know tonight is the night. Do you want to mess it up?”

I backed off. Got into my shell. I hadn’t known that tonight was going to be the night. Now that I knew I couldn’t risk it. When Rekha says such a thing, it is as if the court has given a date, and one has to keep it, else it gets pushed back by another week.

“No, I don’t want to mess it up Rekha,” I said. Then I took my cup of tea and went and sat down where I had the least chances of running into Rekha – near the books.

After two hours, I slowly walked towards Rekha and asked: “Is the breakfast ready?”

“It will be ready soon.”

“OK,” is all I could say before going and sitting next to the books again. An hour later – at 10 am – I got my breakfast.

If Rekha hadn’t told me at 7 am that tonight was the night I was going to get lucky, I would have known anyway – around 12 noon.

My wife doesn’t know that I have read the signs and can now predict with 99% accuracy if I am going to get lucky or not. The remaining 1% is when we end up watching a Richard Gere or George Clooney movie after lunch or dinner and suddenly Rekha starts hating me. She still repents not marrying a Hollywood hunk.

This is how sex between husband and wife gets affected because of kids

12 noon: Rekha asks me, “You aren’t shaving today is it? You know, you should shave on weekends so that you can avoid the Monday rush.”

12.15 pm: Rekha tries hard to get our daughter Rhea to finish her lunch by 12.30 pm and sleep off by 1 pm max.

12.30 pm-2.00 pm: Rhea doesn’t understand our emergency and continues to play around in the bed. Initially, it looks cute but with time she starts looking like a monster who doesn’t want you to get close to your wife. Sometimes it even appears as if she is doing it on purpose. Around 1.30 pm the patience wears off and both Rekha and I start scolding her to sleep. By 2 pm, both of us have forgotten about making love and are more concerned that Rhea sleeps off early so that we can have our lunch.

2.20 pm: We are just winding up our lunch, while watching TV and Rekha says: “You want to postpone it?” I chuckle as if we are talking of Olympics, which need to be postponed because the stadiums aren’t ready. But most of the time I agree with an “In the night then?”

3.00 pm: We are both lying in bed tired and full of food. We are glad that it isn’t over yet. At least, there is something to look forward to.

3.30 pm: Rekha has slept and I am thinking….why couldn’t it be possible twice? Why not now and then again in the evening? Since when did that stop happening. I don’t even remember it now.

4.30 pm: The alarm goes off and the whole family is out of bed. The first thing that comes out of my mouth as I get up and look at Rekha: “In the night then, huh?” She agrees. But I can already see she is repenting it. She would have preferred finishing it off in the afternoon so that it doesn’t hang over her head as the Damocles Sword.

5.30 pm: I approach my wife, “Pratap just called….said he wanted to catch up over a beer. You have any plans?” Rekha shoots down the plan saying she doesn’t like the smell of beer and I will have to choose between Pratap and her. I call up Pratap to say that wife had already planned a shopping trip and I won’t be able to join for beer.

6.30 pm: Rekha approaches me and asks, “You haven’t shaved yet?” I tell her that I was going to in the next ten minutes at which she quips: “In that case, you might also want to take a bath.”

6.45 pm: I shave and reach out to Rekha to let her know. She responds with: “You still understand that we might not do it at all today, right? What if Rhea sleeps late tonight?” I respond with, “Yes I know. I just shaved now to avoid the Monday morning rush.”

7 pm: Rekha decides that it is time to wash the bedsheets and pillow covers in our bedroom. She changes them with a fresh set even as Rhea and I watch her indulge in the activity.

7.30 pm: Rhea’s dinner time starts early today. It is scheduled for 8 pm but today it starts at 7.30 pm. This is to provision for that extra 30 minutes needed to squeeze in “love making” into the daily schedule.

8.00 pm: Rhea is still eating…

8.30 pm: Rhea has reached her dessert.

9.00 pm: Rhea’s 15 minutes of post-dinner Tom & Jerry session has just begun.

9.30 pm: Rhea’s 15 minutes of post-dinner Tom & Jerry session has got extended by another 15 minutes for the third time.

9.45 pm: Rekha and I are losing our patience. And Rhea isn’t sleeping. It looks like a close finish – will we be able to make it? The huge question hangs in balance.

10.00 pm: TV has been switched off and Rhea has agreed to hold her mother’s hands and sleep.

10.10 pm: Because she wasn’t closing her eyes, Rhea gets scolded by her mother. Now she isn’t friends with mother, but friends with her father, so now she is trying to sleep holding her father’s hands.

10.20 pm: Slight nasal snoring indicates a child with common cold has finally hit the bed and has started sleeping. Both Rekha and I watch ‘The Big Bang Theory’ for 15 minutes just to be sure Rhea has slept well.

10.45 pm: Rekha opens up first, “Do we really want it today?”

I nod my head.

“After dinner or before?” She asks.

“Hmm…difficult question…its almost 11 and I am hungry as hell.” I say.

“I know. Me too.” For once my wife and I agree on something.

“But will anything change after dinner? We might be done with dinner only by 11.30 pm and you shouldn’t say its really late and all that.” I make sure I am not going to miss today’s sex.

Rekha said: “Frankly, even now I am not 100% decided, so lets have dinner and hope for the best.”

Thirty minutes later, we leave Rhea sleeping in our main bedroom and move to the second bedroom. As I close the curtains in the room, I see my neighbor standing in his balcony staring in my direction. He grins and gives me a thumbs up sign. If I were him, I would also have done the same – why else would somebody pull the curtains close at 11 in the night.

As I walk to the bed, my mobile phone buzzes….it is a Facebook notification. My neighbor from the balcony has updated his Facebook status and tagged me as well. His update reads: “Predicted right for the 37th time. He gets lucky tonight!”

P.S: But we seem to be one of the lucky couples. I know one that send an Outlook Calendar invite to each other, when they need to make love.

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Categories
Current Affairs

What is Organic food? It is the same food only a lot costlier

Cost of organic food vs non organic food

Ten years back, I would stay away from shops that had a glass door and were air conditioned  – they always tend to be costlier than the other shops. In recent years, thanks primarily to a booming economy and subsequent increase in my salary (psst…don’t tell my wife) I don’t hesitate outside such shops anymore.

If you ask me, what these air-conditioned shops were ten years back, the organic food is today. It is so freaking costly.

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Every time I go for grocery shopping, I see counters labeled ‘Organic Foods’ and high-heeled non-moms, moms, and grand-moms loitering around the counter.

Thats when I asked my wife, “Rekha, what is organic food?”

“Organic food?”

“Yes, I see these organic food counters everywhere now.” I persisted.

“Ah…organic food. Thats just regular food but costlier.”

My mother who was standing nearby got curious. Just in case you thought ours is a family that is kind to each other, let me not disappoint you, you are right. My wife and my mother have a very healthy relationship – a relationship that ensures the fittest survives.

Usually my mother doesn’t question my wife’s strategy but when they are important decisions such as ‘is coconut chutney with idlies better than sambhar with idlies?’ ‘does adding garlic in fish curry make it tasty?’ etc my mother jumps in uninvited.

In this case also she did. She asked: “If it is normal food, why is it costlier?”

Not to be seen as the one that doesn’t know her vegetables, my wife responded confidently: “Aunty, these are vegetables which didn’t have poisonous fertilizers and pesticides sprayed on them. Such stuff can kill people you know?”

Then as an afterthought my wife added, “Not that fertilizers and pesticides are the only way to kill people.”

I waited holding my breath. I had to keep this discussion down. Didn’t want one of them to be hiring a hit-man for the other. Thankfully better sense prevailed and they moved on to other topics.

But for a change I realized that my wife was right. Organic food is regular food but costlier. In fact, organic food is so costly that if yours is a household where a single parent earns, you are doomed.

Just in case you don’t know, organic food is the food your grandparents once ate – everyday, without paying extra. This was when they were calling the shots (and not relegated to a corner of the house by their kids) and you were either a molecule somewhere, a sperm in somebody’s testicles or a kid in your mother’s arms.

Organic food for which we pay so much wasn’t always this costly. In fact, the Apple Eve ate and triggered the fashion industry was organic and was free. The poisoned apple the witch gave Snow White in the fairy tale ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’ was also organic and free. Why then do we have to pay now for organic stuff?

Till about twenty years organic food was available in every store. There were no seperate counters. Our grand parents didn’t have to go to a fancy shop named “Farmacy” to buy Organic Food.

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There are a few things we can do to make sure we all don’t end up paying more for Organic food. Let us start with sharing this post on ours Facebook & Twitter and educate all farmers that we should ONLY be growing food without fertilizers and pesticides. Ohh wait, there is a problem. The farmers on Facebook aren’t real farmers….they are just Farmville players.

Categories
Men and Women

Group dynamics in a married man’s house

Mother Wife issues in a married mans house

Prakash Raj is a close friend of mine who lives in Delhi. This is his story – of how group dynamics in a married man’s house has affected his life. This Saturday, we met up at the Barista in DLF Mega Mall in Gurgaon. He had called on Friday and said: “Jammy, don`t you project yourself as a specialist in man-woman relationships?”

“I never did!” I protested. But my friend wouldn`t listen and fixed a 12 noon meeting at DLF Mega Mall. Easing into the soft, brown cushion at the Barista, he said: “You are lucky, your mother doesn`t stay with you.”

“Why? What happened?”

My longtime friend detailed out an average day in his life. Apparently, his mother and his wife were having trouble adjusting.

Here is his narration, in his words

If my mother and wife have had a fight, I will know by 7.00 p.m. itself. Both my mother and my wife will call me at office and check when I will be home. Armed with the knowledge that the night was going to be stressful and long, I will enter the house by 9 p.m..

If my mother managed to open the door for me, my wife will be at an arms distance to get my laptop bag. If my mother kept my shoes in the newly bought shoe-rack, my wife will bring me the towel and ask to freshen up.

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Finding a reason to enter the house, I will look up at my father for some support. With an Economic Times and a TV in front of him, he will just shrug and go back to the distractions. I know what his shrug means: “Buddy, I managed it in my time, now it is your turn.” So wouldn`t disturb him and move to the washroom to freshen up.

If my wife managed to hand me a washed T-shirt outside the washroom, my mother will manage to shout: “The dinner is served!”

At the dinner table, the silences will be long and the sentences short. The utensils will be a lot noisier than normal days. The decibel levels will give me an idea of the magnitude of the fight. On normal days, the ladle will not hit the plate while the rice or dal is served but on the fight-days the ladles will make their presence felt.

“So, how was your day?” My wife will ask.

Since, I know my response to this question can break my family into two I will just say: “It was fine.”

If I said that my day was great, my wife would fall into a chasm of self-pity and solving the fight will become that much more difficult.

“So, what did you do the whole day?” My mother will ask trying to prove a point that her son is more responsive to her questions. Now, even if I wanted to give a detailed answer I can`t because then my wife will be upset. So I just say: “Nothing much!”

Since my wife is a Malayali (she hails from Kerala), she doesn`t understand Tamil mother starts conversing in Tamil at the dinning table. Being the good husband I am I respond in a neutral language, lest my wife thinks I am conspiring against her.

I look at my father again – seeking advice. The intelligent man that he is, he will just bury his face in his plate.

The dinner will be a disaster. Since both the queens in my life are pre-occupied, they forget to bring to the dining table two of the dishes that were prepared for the evening. The situation worsens if both the dishes were prepared by one individual, for a conspiracy theory is attached to the miss.

When the dinner ends, my mother tries to prolong my stay outside the bedroom by offering ice-cream, fruits, Dabur Chyawanprash etc. If I indulge in these after-dinner-activities, my wife starts hinting me to reach the bedroom soon. She lets out statements like, “I am sleepy,” “Your favourite TV show in on now,” etc. Not willing to upset either of them, I take a spoon full of Dabur Chyawanprash and rush to the bedroom.

Once inside the bedroom, I stare at the TV (and think on how best to tackle my wife). Meanwhile, my wife sits before the dressing mirror and sulks. She sulks so much that I am forced to ask: “Why what happened?”

Even before I finish my question, I realize that I have opened the dam. My wife starts crying and explains how my mother is actually a witch that both my father and I haven`t been able to spot in the last 30 years.

I console her. I tell her that my mother is indeed a bad woman and needs to be controlled with an iron hand. My wife is initially doubts that I am on her side but with some persuasion she is made to believe that I hate my mother. Happy in the belief that she has managed to convince me, she sleeps peacefully. I sleep peacefully too.

The next day while wearing my shoes, I wink at my wife and utter: “Which is bad?”

She glances at my mother from the corner of her eye, then turns towards me and says, “Yes, witch is bad.”

I look at my mother and ask, “Which is bad?”

My mother says, “The blue one.”

I dump the blue socks and wear the black one, as my mother suggests. On my way out, I whisper into my mother`s ears: “I know you guys fought last evening. But I trust you. See even for my socks I still consult you.”

As I start the car, I hear noises in the balcony of my house. In my rear view mirror I see them holding each other by their unkempt hair. They sure love each other`s company.

* * * * * * * * *

I didn`t know what to advice the friend. After all, he was managing the situation pretty well himself. Besides, these are the group dynamics in every married man’s house.

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Categories
Men and Women

This artist loves his wife dearly and it shows in his comics

Yehuda Adi Devir and wife Maya Zeltzer

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Yehuda Adi Devir has been capturing his everyday life with his wife Maya Zeltzer in amazing comics form. If you have ever been in a relationship you will relate to his comics on how his wife is always late, how she is always using him as her travel pillow, how she turns into a Wifinator when she spots a cockroach etc. This artist loves his wife dearly and it shows in his comics.

Yehuda says Maya has been his inspiration for these cute comics – here is wishing they find inspiration in each other for years to come.

We strongly recommend you follow Yehuda Adi Devir on Instagram and Facebook.

Let’s now move on to Yehuda Adi Devir’s amazing husband-wife cartoons. Our comments are in bold.

If you have ever been married or been in a relationship you know that women always have a standard reply, “I have been telling you for the last one hour that I will be ready in five minutes! Why do you keep pestering me?”

Wife and husband get ready for party - Funny Cartoon

A relationship gets stronger when there is freedom to play pranks. When pranks are accepted, appreciated and returned with interest, it is a sign of a healthy relationship.

Wife checks weight and husband scares her - Funny Cartoon

Men never have a problem sleeping. The moment they lie down, they start snoring. The same can’t be said of women. God save you if your wife or girlfriend can’t sleep.

Wife can't sleep at night wakes up husband - Funny Cartoon

This is my favorite. When a husband and wife end up working out together, the husband always ends up doing more. The same happens when a husband and wife start dieting together…the husband always ends up eating more.

Husband and wife work out together - Funny Cartoon

When the relationship has just begun or when you are newly married, the husband and wife shower together often. Last time I asked my wife “hey, want to shower together?” she pointed at my four-year-old son and said, “That’s what happened when we last time showered together!”

Husband showers with hot wife - Funny Cartoon

Men just can’t stay in bed. Women can’t stay in bed alone.

Husband and wife wake up in morning - Funny Cartoon

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Contrary to popular belief, girlfriends and wives are good fixers around the house. I don’t know why men are seen as better fixers…they just aren’t. Dear handywomen…where are you all?

Wife helps husband fix Ikea furniture - Funny Cartoon

Again, contrary to popular belief wives and girlfriends can handle spiders, lizards and cockroaches much better than men. Maybe because they are well prepared for the battle.

Wife kills cockroach as husband watches - Funny Cartoon

This is exactly how it happens in our house, so my heart goes out to you, dear Yehuda. But hey, washing dishes in the house is better than washing dishes at the restaurant.

Husbands turn to do the dishes - Funny Cartoon

This is bang on. Last time when I refused to remove my shirt, my wife asked me, “Is it because you are shaped like a mushroom?”
I looked straight into her eyes and said, “Hey, I may be shaped like a mushroom, but you do know that I am a fun-gi!”

Husband shy to take his shirt off - Funny Cartoon

Folks who have a bad hair day every day, won’t be able to relate to this. Neither would the guys who don’t have hair to start with.

Wife has band hair day and husband scared - Funny Cartoon

You know what I hate more than forgetting important days? When my wife forgets them. But when it comes to Valentine’s Day I don’t mind my wife forgetting the day.

Wife forgets valentine's day - Funny Cartoon

This is so true. The strength of a relationship can be gauged by the amount space the husband gets in a selfie. The lesser the space he gets, the stronger the bond.

Husband and wife take a selfie - Funny Cartoon

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I have been my wife’s traveling pillow for long. Maybe that’s why I walk with one shoulder down. And no, it is not from the weight of my wife’s drool.

Husband is wife's travelling pillow - Funny Cartoon

This doesn’t happen in our house. Maybe because we have been married for 13 years. Or maybe because my wife believes in letting the booty go, and if it was your booty it wouldn’t get lost.

Wife defends her booty - Funny Cartoon

Categories
Men and Women

I do NOT help my wife and you should also NEVER help your wife

Do not help your wife
Never help your wife. Thats the secret to leading a happy married life.

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//Produced As Is//

A friend came to my house for coffee, we sat and talked about life. At some point in the conversation, I said, “I’m going to wash the dishes and I’ll be right back.”

He looked at me as if I had told him I was going to build a space rocket. After being quite for some time, he said with admiration: “I’m glad you help your wife. I do not help because my wife does not praise me when I help her. Last week I washed the floor and there was no thanks.”

After I was done with my dishes, I went back to him and explained that I did not “help” my wife. Actually, my wife does not need help, she needs a partner. I am a partner at home.

I do not help my wife clean the house because I live here too and I need to clean it too.

I do not help my wife to cook because I also want to eat and I need to cook too.

I do not help my wife wash the dishes after eating because I also use those dishes.

I do not help my wife with her children because they are also my children and my job is to be a father.

I do not help my wife to wash, spread or fold clothes because the clothes are also mine and my family’s.

I am not a help at home, I am part of the house. And as for praising, I asked my friend when it was the last time after his wife had finished cleaning the house, washing clothes, changing bed sheets, bathing in her children, cooking, organizing, etc. he said thank you. Not a normal thank you but something from the depths of his heart.

He said he hadn’t because till now he had thought it was all her job.

Guys,
Let us give her a hand. Let us behave like true companions. Let us not behave like guests who only come to eat, sleep, bathe and satisfy needs other needs. Let us start feeling at home in our own house.

Agree with this? Help a woman, share this with everybody.

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Categories
Family

Wife forces her husband to start jogging and then stops him forever

Wife forces her husband to start jogging
Just because your wife forces you to start jogging, don't invest in running gear. For she may ask you to stop soon!

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If you are a married man, you know what trouble it is to live with a lady who has an opinion of her own. In my case you can double that trouble – and you will know what it is like living with my daughter and my wife. Of course, my daughter’s opinions are still handle-able. It is my wife’s opinions that make my life hell.

I can handle any amount of attitude in my wife Rekha, what I can’t handle is her opinions. The other day, she said: “Rajan, you need to start working out again.”

“Why?

“Just like that.”

Since, it was of no use arguing with my wife, I decided to start working out. I bought 500 grams of all the dry fruits available, mixed them in a bottle and kept them handy for the next day. As luck would have it I couldn’t beat the cold and head for a jog the next morning.

“Aren’t you going for a jog?”

“No. It is too cold.”

“Come on, don’t be a sissy. Go and work out. Get some stamina.”

“Stamina? Wait, do you have a reason for asking me to go for a jog?”

“Nope.”

“Come on…tell me,” I insisted.

“Since you insist. And mind you, only since you insist, let me share a secret with you. You aren’t holding up the bed anymore.”

“Ohh my God! You feel so?” I was shocked. I could have run a marathon at that moment just to prove a point.

My wife just nodded and left the room. I had only two options – start jogging soon or get a second opinion. Getting a second opinion would mean, finding a young girl. That wasn’t going to happen in my 40s (yes, thats how old I am), so from the next day, I started jogging.

Ten days went by, and suddenly my wife asked me: “You seem to have started enjoying your jog?”

“Yes indeed. The first few days were a drab, but now it is fun.”

My wife thought for a while and then asked: “Why do you always leave at 6.30 am? Anything special with the timing?”

“Just fits right into the schedule. If I leave at that time, I can be in office by 9.30 am.”

“Hmm…” My wife was thinking.

“Why do you ask?” I questioned her while I tied the laces of my running shoes.

“In my opinion, you wouldn’t start jogging at 6.30 am everyday if there wasn’t something in it for you.”

“Yes, I am getting healthier. Not to mention the improved stamina.” I stressed on the word stamina, and gave my wife the naughty look which she has started hating after our marriage.

“Nothing else then, huh?”

“Nope. Nothing else really.” Saying this I said my byes and headed for the lift. Just as I was entering the lift in my tracksuit and running shoes, I heard my wife’s voice from behind: “I hope your punctuality has nothing to do with other woman who comes jogging?”

It was one of those close moments where the benefit of doubt could be provided to either side – so I stepped in to the lift and stayed quite as if I hadn’t heard my wife. She also never brought up the topic again.

It really pains me to know that my wife still hasn’t realized that it is difficult to for me to get younger women because I am in my 40s. It is just not possible for me to connect with a younger lady. If at all we strike a conversation, most end up calling me ‘Uncle’ or ‘Sir’ or ‘Bhaiya’ within the first 30 seconds.

The more I jogged, the more I started loving it. It had been two months since I had started my morning run. Me leaving at 6.30 am everyday for two months was more than what my wife could take. She decided to find out for herself.

One find day, she bought tracks and running shoes and followed me ten minutes later.

I didn’t know she was following me till, I spotted her hiding behind one of the trees. I had nothing to fear. I would do my rounds and then head back home. It would be my wife’s responsibility to explain the circumstances – and I loved such scenarios.

But fate had something else in store for me. As I finished my third round around the apartment complex, Sunita, who is a mother of a two year old baby boy, came right in front of me and said:

“Hi! You are Jammy, right?”

“Yes.” I was cautious because I knew my wife was watching.

“Rhea’s father, right?”

“Yes.”

“I have seen you around many times. You don’t know me…but I know you.”

“OK?!”

“I have been seeing you jog for the last two months, and you have inspired me to take up jogging.

“Wow, thats nice. But why did you stop me now?”

“Do you mind, if I also jog alongside you – I have a problem pacing myself.”

Guys, you all know me. I try to help as many people as possible. Even if sometimes I end up in trouble as a result of the act. I agreed, and she ran three rounds of the apartment with me. When tired, she shook hands, thanked me and left.

God’s ways surprise me. Just the day you don’t want a girl to cross your path, he throws a pretty one on the road and asks you to fight it out with your wife.

As you have guessed by now, I couldn’t convince my wife that Sunita had started jogging only that day. My wife still believes that I woke up every day at 6 am and headed for a jog at 6.30 only for Sunita.

To prove that there was nothing going on between Sunita and me, I had to give up jogging just when I had started loving it. And just when my stamina had started improving.

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–XXX–

Two days back, we were shopping. My daughter was sitting in the shopping cart and I was pushing the it while my wife was picking up the items to be bought and placing them inside the cart. It all went well for fifteen minutes and then we lost my wife.

I looked every where. For her bit, my daughter also tried shouting ‘Amma!’ ‘Amma!’ but to no avail. We just couldn’t spot her. That’s when an idea stuck me, I approached a pretty young girl in her early 20s standing near the Toiletries section and stuck a conversation with her.

“Hi!” I said.

“Do I know you?” The girl had an I-don’t-flirt-with-married-men look on her face.

“No you don’t know me….but I have lost my wife.”

“So? What do you want from me?”

“No nothing…we just need to talk for five minutes and the problem will get solved.” I said with a grin on my face which she was unable to fathom.

“What do you mean?” She was getting rude.

“Whenever I talk to a pretty woman my wife finds me. So hold on for a few more seconds and my wife will be here.” My naughty grin continued.

“Look Mister, I am from a respectable family.”

“Don’t worry. Just a few more seconds. I am sure my wife has sensed the danger by now.”

I hadn’t even finished the sentence when I heard Rekha call me from behind: “Rajan, what are you doing there? Your daughter is alone here!”

It worked. It always works!