Living the husband moments

I had a sloppy first half of life and the second half is going through a litmus paper test, which I call Marriage.

It’s the second half alrite… I got double chin for starters … got grey hair trespassing my youth on my sideburn running a very successful breeding program right on my cheeks…and you know you are getting old when you hurt yourself while sleeping…and having a wife just works like a catalyst to your aging process.


Not that I like being young now… youth of today have gone nuts… my parents are having a hard time making friends with computer and internet and I am having pretty hard time understanding the fixation this generation of people have with gadgets… Iphone… and the apps… all those lights and sounds on their phone and finger touch stuff… those childish apps… what’s the temperature in Alaska… if you do this it shows that…

I wonder why they don’t make apps to amuse people like me. A Wife app… like an app which will send electric shocks to your wife whenever she starts talking… at least an app which sends her hourly message I love u I miss u from your side to keep the devil contained. Those will be worthwhile eh

I am being mean… it’s not apocalyptic at my end… it’s just going through that journey. Lately Mrs. Ashraf did two more additions to her how to irritate her husband to death arsenal. One introduced me to her love for medicines and illness and the second I don’t know how to tag it.

Any illness you mention and my wife had experienced it. I don’t know how to make her understand she can’t have testicular cancer… its beyond her gender… One of her kind… In my days when I was I was growing up there were just two medicines Dispirin and Paracetamol. To qualify for dispirin you need to be a grown up if not a married person rest all was just Paracetamol. College might have garnished the medicine cabinet with codeine phosphate 10 mg and few more…But it was still in numbers, which can be counted on fingers. My wife she takes medicine as a collector’s item. She carries rainbow of medicines in her makeup bag. Still this is not as irritating as the next one.

On 15th she went to her native place since 3rd I have been forced to drag her suitcase to the gym and weigh it. Did it 5 times this time around and I am sure I will be doing it many more times in future. Rolling her suitcase to the gym while everyone is doing something and then putting the bag on the weigh machine trying all ways to read the weigh under amused scrutiny of million pairs of eyes. Some limelight I get after marriage.

It wouldn’t have been so bad.. If I wouldn’t have agreed to her idea of calling the airlines, call center to understand their laws on baggage allowance. 30 Kgs folks you can carry 30 kgs if you fly over Moscow… not an ounce more. And missus is a perfectionist. So I drag the bag put on the weighing machine and I can’t see the weight… its not built to weigh anything apart from humans. I call him back just as I realize why am I calling him…and he like a Wizard gives a solution!! Hold the bag and stand on the weigh… then put the bag down and stand on it again … and subtract the weighs… why I didn’t call him from the gym…. I could have if I wouldn’t have been embarrassed to my underwear holding my wife suitcase in the gym.

I didn’t react… I am training my self to be immune to intelligence around me..

Anyway, all well that ends well… and it ended very well. Mrs. Ashraf is gone for 1 month and 15 days…glass is half full eh!!