This is how it happens.

There’s this specific type of question Phil asks me sometimes – it doesn’t really matter what it is, except to say that he asks it and it’s not really a question. I don’t know how to explain it, and if I did, I think I’d just get a rack of Phil apologists in here telling me why I’m wrong to be annoyed by my husband, and that would be a mistake. On their part.

Anyway, so there’s this one specific type of questions that Phil asks me sometimes, and it just gets right under my skin. It immediately gets right under my skin. You know that kind of thing, right? How there’s something – I don’t know if it’s something your husband does, but it probably is – but something that just gets RIGHT UNDER YOUR SKIN RIGHT THE SECOND IT HAPPENS? Yeah, it’s something like that.

He asks this question, and it’s immediately right under my skin, and my blood pressure shoots up, and there’s this little “pah!” sound, and that sound – it’s really tiny, you wouldn’t be able to hear it even if you were sitting in my lap (which is not something you should ever, EVER do) – it’s the sound of all of the moisture on the surface of my eyes poofing away in an INSTANT. Just “pah!” Pft! Teeny little vapor puffs, all the moisture on the surface of my eyes just GONE.

And this is all AS he is asking the question. He hasn’t even finished the question before I hear “pah!” Because I know Phil, and I know this question and the forms it can take. It starts with either, “I thought…,” or “Aren’t you…,” or “Are you going to…,” and he only has to get THAT FAR before “pah!” and desert eyes, and then I am moving on to the next step, which is, or must be – I don’t know, I’m not an eye scientist – eye boil.

There’s some kind of water in the eye, or eye goo, at least, and I know this because I cut apart a sheep eye in the ninth grade, and I remember a pretty decent amount of watery goo, and after the “pah!,” my head swings or swivels on my neck, depending on if he’s been unwise enough to stand very close to me, or is asking his question from a smart and safe distance or maybe even directly behind me, which used to be safe but isn’t really anymore, because I’ve become very adept at getting my head ALL the way around, you’ll see my hypothesis on why in a moment – wait, what? I’m lost in this paragraph. Let’s meet at the next one down and backtrack a bit.

Okay, so Phil gets partway into his sentence, “pah!,” eye desert, neck swivel, oh, and then we’re at eye goo. Okay. Okay, so AS MY NECK IS SWIVELING AND MY EYES ARE TRACKING HIM, I can feel my eye goo. I feel it, you guys. I become aware of my eye goo. I’m really sorry for how many times I’m saying eye goo, and the fact that I may be making you uncomfortably aware of the fact that eye goo exists. I mean, we all logically know eye goo exists, but it’s not something we want to acknowledge on a daily basis, and I get that. I am apologizing to you. But Phil asks this question, and I become aware of mine, because I feel it HEATING UP TO A BOIL.

Now, there’s no real climax to this story, because as of yet, my eye goo has never really reached a boil. I’ve gotten a “pah!,” I’ve developed heat so intense it causes instant evaporation. My neck has reached new levels of swivel, but I don’t know if that’s a development or just practice. My eyes sometimes narrow, almost like I’m bringing in a really intense focus, and I feel the eye goo heating.

This all happens when Phil asks me this one specific type of question that gets under my skin SO FAST that this process is triggered almost like a REFLEX. So you want to know what I think is happening?




My husband does this one specific thing that sets off my rage so quickly and so intensely that my body is ACTUALLY TRYING TO EVOLVE LASER VISION WITH WHICH TO SMITE HIM WHERE HE STANDS.

I feel it happening, Internet. This is how it happens. Our spouses and children and bosses and that woman who parked her truck in the Target parking lot in such a way that not only was she over the line into my spot, but her back tire BLOCKED MY BACK TIRE IN and then WENT INTO THE STORE AND LEFT HER TRUCK PARKED LIKE THAT and then HAD THE AUDACITY TO GLARE AT ME WHEN I WAS PARKED IN MY RUNNING CAR WAITING FOR HER TO LEAVE WHEN SHE FINALLY CAME OUT. This is how the next round of human evolution is going to happen.

19 thoughts on “This is how it happens.

  1. Mary

    “Would you do something for me…,” which usually translates into something he SHOULD have done three weeks ago and now it is an emergency that has to be taken care of right now, by ME.

    Cleaning up his messes since 2003.
    Sometimes I throw things.

  2. KeraLinnea

    “wait, what? I’m lost in this paragraph. Let’s meet at the next one down and backtrack a bit.”

    This is where I started giggling uncontrollably.

    “My husband does this one specific thing that sets off my rage so quickly and so intensely that my body is ACTUALLY TRYING TO EVOLVE LASER VISION WITH WHICH TO SMITE HIM WHERE HE STANDS.”

    This is where I lost my coffe. This may be my most favorite TJ post.

  3. Natalie

    I know exactly what you mean… the tiny muscle right below my eye starts twitching, which is sometimes good because he can see it.

    My version of an immediate under-skin item is usually “do we have…” some mundane item which he knows we have, he just wants me to get it for him. JUST ASK THE REAL QUESTION, ALREADY.

  4. Kara

    Like horned lizards, who CAN spit blood out of their eyes? That would be a pretty amazing (but highly useful) evolutionary step to be able to do the same, with lasers.

    The sentences that immediately send me into boiling rage tend to start with: “Mom, I forgot that **this** was due tomorrow” and “Don’t be mad, but…” (usually followed by my husband telling me he spent some outrageous sum or money or has booked something on a date other than what we agreed on).

  5. Kate

    In my case, it’s the eyebrows. They start crawling so far up my forehead that all the skin between my eyebrows and my hairline starts crinkling up into nothing and the eyebrows launch higher and higher and higher. They haven’t ever fully detached and gone rocketing up to the ceiling, but one day they might. Not as effective as laser eyes, of course, unless the eyebrows could somehow launch onto the other person and strangle him.

  6. Leigh

    Yes! This is how I developed the ability to strangle my husband without moving my arms–it only took 22 years of him starting sentences with “So I guess you’re not going to …”

  7. g~

    The penis makes them think this is an acceptable question with acceptable phrasing. I’m wondering if/when it will evolutionize out.

  8. Delicia

    Brilliant post. Absolutely accurate, and I think quite a few wives are evolving their laser vision this way. I also laughed and laughed. And then sent a link for this post to my husband. AS A WARNING.

  9. Maggie

    Yes! In my case it’s my husband starting with “We should . . .” or “Why don’t we . . .” Those are never completed with something like “jet off to Paris” or “hire a cook” or “go to a movie alone.” No, they are always completed with something that I, alone, would have to do. Laser vision is the future! Evolve!

  10. Erica

    Oh arg ooof (completely unintelligible noise) I have such a THING about eyeballs but I still read all the way through this. And my takeaway is: do not try to sit on Kelly’s lap next weekend.

  11. Mary

    Once we get our laser eyes though, will we have to wear those ugly shades like that one guy in X-Men, for fear of accidentally annihilating someone we might be justifiably irritated with but would prefer to not be lethally irritated with? Maybe someone will make some that aren’t so ugly. I love the “pew pew pew” in the tags, btw. :D

  12. Matti

    The best part? This is the Valentine’s Day post :) Love. It.
    Though I’m having little flashbacks to my high school lab partner and myself and that freaky sheep’s eyeball trying to get it open without getting squirted. Sorry.

  13. Lawyerish

    This is so perfect in every way. My point of pre-evolution comes with the “we should…” statements, which really mean that *I* should do X. Even more so when the statement implies that I have been neglecting something, like “we should get F new shoes [or clothes, pajamas, etc]; these are too small.” As if I, the mother and sole buyer of her clothes and shoes, have failed to properly provide for my child’s growing feet and body. OMG.

  14. Kim

    You need to wear a t-shirt underneath your clothes. When the “Would you/Ithought/I need” BS starts, you rip off the overshirt to display the T-shirt, which reads “Lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine”

    You’ll be able to smell the vitreous humor boiling, but at least it won’t be yours ;-P

  15. Danell

    I love this!!

    For me, it’s grinding/clenching my teeth. Like, REEEEEALLY hard, so my jaw is all bunched up and sticking out all put-bull-like on either side of my face…so now I’m sitting here wondering what useful evolutionary process could possibly be taking place in ME and, well, I got nothing. Ground-down Nubbin Teeth sounds like a trait that might steer one towards extinction compared to LASER EYEBALLS.

  16. Melissa

    I’m pretty sure I will eventually be able to make steam come out of my ears. Just like in cartoons. I can feel it starting.

  17. Mugician13

    Just as an FYI, the scientific name for “eye goo” is “vitreous humor.” Or “humour,” if you’re British.

    “Boiling Vitreous Humor” would make an excellent band name, by the way…

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