Husband evaluation
Cleanliness:
Besides your usual spreading of socks and underwear throughout the house, you left your cut toenails on the living room floor. That you arranged them in a happy face did little to improve my mood. You were also quite lackadaisical about your duties: not only did you not vacuum, you moaned and groaned all the way through doing the dishes and, what’s worse, broke my favorite cup.
Score: 1/5
Demeanor:
Accompanying me on trips to visit my parents is not enough. I expect you to make an effort. That means more than just sitting there with a surly look on your face while drinking as much of my father’s alcohol as you can. That you were hungover — hair of the dog, you kept saying — is no excuse. And please remember: this is a family event. Just because your team lost does not justify shouting fuck at a four-year old or throwing your beer can at the dog.
Score: 0/5
Hygiene:
I notice you have stopped wearing deodorant. When I asked you why, you muttered some excuse about it being a hassle. Apparently, waving a little stick under your arm for a second or two is too much trouble. You’d rather make the person you supposedly love endure the horrific odor of your BO. When I suggested a spray, you objected on ecological grounds, and were even quite self-righteous about it. Silly me. I had no idea that all that stood between us and environmental Armageddon was your smelly armpits.
Score: 0/5
Attentiveness:
I appreciate you remembering my birthday and taking me out for dinner. Unfortunately, Frank’s Beans and Franks is not really my kind of place. When choosing a venue, please make more of an effort to pick a place I like. French, for example. Or Italian. Surely you know that by now. That you kept saying “It’s his name. Get it?” didn’t help. Neither did your gas, which ruined what remained of our special evening: not only did you repeatedly fart during sex, I had a nightmare in which the house was on fire and I, being suffocated by smoke. Moments later, I awoke to a shocking stink and had to open the windows.
Score: 2/5
Sexual Performance:
First, foreplay. I understand you like porn. But when, in the middle of dinner, you show me a video of an acrobatic twenty-year-old having sex with a man whose penis reaches to the floor, it most definitely does not turn me on. That you justify your behavior by calling it research does not redeem the situation, let alone make it romantic. Put the phone down. Try a kiss. Or a hug. Or even a compliment. I know what you want. Just be nice in asking for it.
Second, technique. Although your days of one-and-done are largely behind us, you still focus too much on your own pleasure. We are people, not cars. I am not an empty cylinder through which your piston pumps. On the contrary, I have a rhythm of my own. Please make more of an effort to accommodate it. Also, much as I appreciate you spending some quality time with my clitoris, please remember: it’s like petting a cat, not crushing a nut. And don’t worry be afraid to use other parts of your body. Remember that child we saw at the fair with the lollipop? She looked happy. Try that.
Score: 2/5
Overall score: 1/5
Overall assessment: Further improvement needed in all categories. Repeated failure to progress may result in divorce.
