This title just gets me. It’s like backward. Anyway…don’t get it into your little sick heads that this is about wife swapping or anything so scandalous as all that. Although of course that’s the first place my sick little head went as I wrote this even though I know what I’m going to write about. Stop it dirty mind! That’s not it AT ALL!! No…this post is about how men manipulate their wives by pitting them in competitions against each other. And yes, at first we are totally unaware that we’re in a race with another man’s wife. I didn’t know we were lining up, I didn’t know the wife race shot gun was about to go off announcing that I was supposed to run for all I was worth at the “best wife ever” finish line to win the “wife of the year” WOTY blinged out trophy. But yes, that’s exactly what’s happening BEHIND The SCENES!! You’ll find out more with this SHOCKING expose!!
Wife Competitions Are Happening in YOUR TOWN!!
I’m about to blow your mind about the secrets of wife competitions. They are happening all around us, behind closed doors, whispered about from behind hands. Evil men are perpetrating this, as we speak. You might even know a man who is doing this. In fact, you might be MARRIED to a man who is hosting wife competitions. Maybe he’s even assembling some kind of dream team. A fantasy wife league of epic proportions! We don’t know how deep this scandal goes. All I can tell you is what I’ve learned recently.
Trouble in Which We’re All Friends
I have a friend, K and her husband M is friends with my husband James. In fact they work together. This is a situation just ripe for wife races. It’s basically inevitable that it will occur. The first time I really realized that wife competitions were happening was when we went camping together last year. The forecast for the long weekend said RAIN, RAIN, RAIN. And I said…booooo!!! I don’t wanna go camping in the RAIN!! And this isn’t just me being a wimpy wife, this is from years of experience where I was forced to camp in all conditions by my evil parents (everybody in this post besides me and maybe K is evil, just FYI).
So I know what camping in the rain is like and it’s not really all that fun. So I was boo-hooing and threatening to not go at all. Next thing I know, James is telling me that M told him that K is definitely going camping. That she’s lived in our area her whole life and she’s not afraid to camp in the rain! She’s damn tough, goddamn it! She won’t be staying home with a good book, she’ll be out there stoking the fire in her raincoat! She’ll be running to the bathroom in the cold rain and she’ll be laughing! Yes, she’s gonna LOVE IT when she’s lying shivering in her tent with wet socks!! Obviously she’s a FAR better wife than you could ever be!
Holy $%&*! I Will Not be Shown Up! I’m Super Wife!!
So what did this do to me? I was like…dammit, I’ll show that bitch! How DARE she act like she’s better than me!! I know how to camp in the rain! I’ve probably camped more than all of you assholes combined! Don’t test me! I’ll show you bastards how to camp in the rain. BRING IT!!
And that’s exactly what they wanted!! The evil husbands were trying to stoke up my competitive nature. They were using their testosterone fueled man brains to prod me into camping because of course I couldn’t be shown up by someone else’s wife! I couldn’t let someone else’s wife be a better wife than me or a more kickass woman! I had to represent! Even if this girl was my friend, it didn’t matter, goddamnit! I’d show that horrid, terrible bitch!! (I apologize my dear, you are not a bitch at all, no woman is, but it makes this telling much more dramatic if I call you one and also threaten to pull out your hair for DARING to say that you’re more woman than me because you’ve lived here all your life and you know the weather conditions and you’re not afraid. Oh my boiling blood! The competition!!!) See what was happening!! SEEE ITTT!!!!
Before I reveal the horrible truth to you, I’m going to tell you another story.
I’m the Best Skier Ever (and wife). So There.
This past weekend I went skiing. I haven’t been skiing in years but hubs decided he wanted me to go and I thought…hell, why not! Typically he goes with M who loves skiing and who has been trying to get K to ski for ever. K is NOT into it. So…when James told M at work this week that I went skiing and kept up with the boys, he was incredulous! His mouth HUNG OPEN in amazement and jealousy! I had actually owned up! I had committed to skiing! WHAT!! And guess what M immediately did? He entered K and I into another wife competition that we didn’t want any part of! He freaking signed our names on the ballot! We were in a race for mayor of wife town, representative best wife ever! Now K is being told how awesome I am, how cool it is that I can ski, how she should go skiing next time, etc. etc. And K is probably ripshit mad at me for being such an asshole. Hey, I don’t blame her! I’m a pretty awesome wife. Damn!
And here’s another one. I cut James’ hair on the regular. With clippers and scissors. It’s no biggie for me because I used to cut my brother’s hair and friends now and then in high school and my mom cut my dad’s hair. One day James just decided he was done paying the salon for what I could do at home and since he loves saving money, he mandated that I should cut his hair. This is okay with me, although kind of annoying.
Held Hostage by a Beard
Anyway, recently M decided that K should also cut his hair. Now, K has no experience with hair cutting whatsoever and being the dramatic girl she is, much like myself, she basically threw a temper tantrum when he tried to get her to cut his hair. His methods though? He sat down in the kitchen and refused to get up until she cut his hair. PLUS he held her hostage with a beard he refused to shave, knowing full well that she can’t stand beards! The horrors of scratchy itchy beard hostaging!! And of course, he told her that I was such a good wife and cut my husbands hair all the time. And there you have it, another instance of wife competitions. Who has the best wife? Whose wife does everything right? Whose wife kicks the most ass? Whose wife is the toughest camper? Whose wife can climb 5 mountains in one day? Hmm?
I Will be Victorious! Victoria the Victorious!!
K versus V in a wife competition cage match, to the DEATH!! Who will win?? Which wife is truly the best! Which wife will throw the most dramatics?! Which wife will get into the competition and call the other a bitch for doing something she hates to do! Which wife does such and such in the bedroom? Who!! Who will win!!
Seriously, this is bullshit!! Wife competitions are so annoying and guess what? It came to light later, with the camping story above, that K wasn’t really all that thrilled with camping in the rain either and M and James totally built that shit up to convince BOTH of us that the other was into camping so that both of us would agree to go just to show the other girl that we weren’t wimpy! WHAT THE HELL!!
Wife Competitions are Inhumane!
I’ve officially declared that Wife Competitions are OVER! And totally illegal and outlawed. And anyone pitting wives against each other will be found guilty and locked away in husband hell for at least 3 days. Solitary!!
The new game is that whenever either of us doesn’t want to do something, it’s okay. We’re our own people with our own likes and dislikes and dammit we will not be compared! We’re each beautiful and awesome in our own way. HAAA!! So each example will just serve to show the men that we’re individuals. We’re special like snowflakes or flowers or whatever! DAMMIT!!
Oh wow…I love this so much. I’m a special snowflake. Recognize!! And so is K! We will not be pitted against each other like poor dogs in a dog fight! We’re human! And we only compete if we WANT to! We will not be forced!
But He Said, She Said, They Said, What? Oh My Gawd!
Plus the miscommunication is absolutely hilarious. And totally rigged. M tells James something about K and James tells me and then I’m like…whaa??? Then I ask K and it’s a totally different story. And it works both ways. I tell K something about James and K tells M and M tells James. It’s telephone of the sexes. And the message is always terribly wrong and garbled. It’s rife with misunderstandings and the loss of tone of voice and inflection! and yes, word choice. You’ll forever be hearing, I didn’t SAY THAT!! I used this word which is slightly different but totally different in meaning. VASTLY different. Gawd. You hens!! (SEXIST!!)
From now on it’s a competition of men against women. That’s what I’m declaring right now. And the women are clearly more awesomer (ha) than the men. And we do what we wanna do, ain’t no one gonna push us around. So there! I will throw high dramatics! I will throw down! I will make my dramatics cheesier than a soap opera or a plate of delish nachos! We will cry, we are not afraid! We will rant, we will throw tantrums, we will have pity parties with our girlfriends and we will talk shit about the men and their fantasy leagues of wives!
Now on to Important Things: I.E. My Fears and Drinking
Finally, in closing, Irish Car Bombs with Guinness, Whiskey and Bailey’s are seriously the best, yummiest thing ever. The end. And ski lifts are terrifying but they are better than hiking because they carry my lazy ass up the mountain. The end 2.