Everyone who’s been around here for a while knows I like to play tricks on my husband. One of my very favorite is The Spaghetti Squash Test aka the “How To Torture Your Obsessive Compulsive Husband test.”
I consider these “tricks” little tests that measure the strength of our marriage. Shut your trap, some of us do things in different ways. This is mine. (It’s like the snake giving the fox a ride across the lake. He knew who I was before he married me.) Yes, of course, I’m going to eat him.
Anyway, some time ago, I created separate profiles for me, Gabe, Asher and Meyer on Netflix. I was tired of a bunch of crappy kid’s movies and shows sitting on my list – and also of Netflix recommending kids’ crap to me because it was clearly being watched under my name by the wild things.
So each person got their own profile and while it didn’t solve the problem – because I’m too lazy to go in and delete all the kids’ shows and movies from my account, it helped some. Last weekend, I realized that I had not set up parental controls on the kids’ accounts – and now that they’re getting more independent (Asher got an iPad for Christmas), I thought it was about time. So I went in and set Meyer (4) for “little kids and below” and Asher for “older kids and below” and then I looked at Gabe’s profile, just sitting there staring me in the face. It was just kind of taunting me. What was I to do?
My husband works a LOT. Sometimes he can go many days without watching any TV, much less Netflix so it took about a week.
Saturday night, we decided to watch separate things. I really wanted to delve into “Making a Murderer” because people can’t stop talking about it, including people who tend to like the same kind of stuff I like and also because I liked “Serial” a lot and so why would I not like a version of Serial with actual visuals too?
So I went into the bedroom and started The Murdering Show. I had no idea what Gabe had in mind for himself. I knew he wanted a nice cocktail (he’s a big Salzerac fan) and I knew he had a Mardi Gras-oriented project to work on. (We’re from Mobile, Al – where Mardi Gras first began in the United States. I love you New Orleans but you are never gonna win this argument on this website).
Things were pretty quiet for a while. There was ice clinking and mixing, there was the sound of Mardi Gras supplies being assembled (I have to be vague here because the Mardi Gras societies are mystic and that means you’re not allowed to know who’s in which one) and then the TV came on. There were some grumbling sounds for a while. I didn’t think too much of it as I’d kind of forgotten about the parental controls and it’s also not that unusual to hear grumbling sounds coming from Gabe’s general direction. Then there was cursing. Loud cursing. (And that was when I remembered).
It had taken him a good while of searching through his offerings of Daniel Tiger, Little Einsteins, Octonauts, Kate & Mim-mim and Curious George and not being able no matter how hard he tried to find anything even kinda for people over the age of 4 to figure out what I’d done. But he eventually did with a decent amount of confidence because, well, like I said – it’s not the first trick I’ve played on him.
So I had a really good laugh and then, after reading the rest of his text to determine if he was mad or not (NOT mad), I changed his parental controls back to where they belong: older kids and younger. Just kidding. That’s an inside joke that only a few people will enjoy because my husband happens to be a good bit younger than me.
As an aside, “Making A Murderer.” Creepy, right? I’m only in the middle of episode 3 so don’t tell me anything but my mind is kinda blown. Although some might suggest that torturing your husband is a pretty decent way to make a murderer.
Here are more funny posts about the tricks I play on my husband – and they clearly come highly recommended by scientists from all over the nowhere because we are still going strong after 10 years of marriage.
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