They say marriage is an intimate dance between two partners. It is. It’s the Chicken Dance. Drunk. In heels.

They also say men and women think differently, as if it were some sort of a myth, or something we need to fix. Well, it’s not. And we don’t. We just need to know how to translate.

I’m here to demystify the male mind for you. I know, I know. It’s been done before, but I am going break it down for you real nice-like. Real simple. So, pretty soon, you’ll both be hanging out on Mars…or Venus (or wherever) together, I mean, if that’s what you really want.


What You Say: Honey, can you take out the trash?

What He Hears: You should probably take out the trash after two more commercials/this round of Angry Birds/I ask you four more times.


What You Say: You’re gross.

What He Hears: You’re the best!


What You Say: You don’t appreciate me.

What He Hears: More flowers. Buy more flowers. Heavy on the Baby’s Breath.


What You Say: Does this outfit make me look fat?

What He Hears: We won’t be going anywhere for a while. Have a seat on the couch and put on the game.


What You Say: Please change the babies’ clothes.

What He Hears: Dress the children in a combination of clothes that a) don’t fit and b) don’t match. Justify this by noting that you picked ‘colors that pop’.


What You Say: Are you listening?

What He Hears: (You know that sound when the needle reaches the end of a record? That.)


What You Say: We’re not going to watch this, are we?

What He Hears: I’m going to get up to stomp out of the room in a few minutes. When I do that, change the channel back to Say Yes to the Dress.


What You Say: Please don’t pick your daughter up by her pajamas.

What He Hears: You can keep picking your daughter up by her pajamas until they rip. Then, no more.


What You Say: Can you get us a drink of water before bed?

What He Hears: Get the first cup you can find, fill it halfway with lukewarm water, then drink it all.


What You Say: Didn’t you wear that already?

What He Hears: I appreciate your commitment to conservation, and your excellent taste in clothing.


What You Say: Make sure you comb the babies’ hair when they get out of the tub.

What He Hears: Mash down the babies’ hair with your greasy hand before you leave the bathroom.


What You Say: Are you falling asleep?

What He Hears:  Nothing. He’s asleep.


See? Simple. Just find the most ridiculous, least efficient, most infuriating interpretation of what you said, and that’s probably what he heard. Master this and you’ll soon be canoodling in a hammock, enjoying a Bahamian sunset, and giggling like two high-schoolers. You’re welcome.

And don’t forget to send me a postcard. Or at least a blurry cell phone pic of you two making out.



  1. I read this sentence after taking a sip of tea: Justify this by noting that you picked ‘colors that pop’. Not a good idea as there is tea everywhere now. Either we are married to the same man or all men are the same.

  2. *Snort*

    I actually LOVE it when my husband dresses the kid for preschool. Picking him up is like a tiny adventure…What will he be wearing? How hilarious will it be?

  3. This.Is.Awesome. Also, I suspect that our men are from the same tribe.

    I’d like to add the snuggling component.
    What you say: Can we snuggle before I go to sleep?
    What he hears: I’ll just lay here with my eyes closed & relax. When she complains that this ‘isn’t snuggling!’, I’ll throw my heavy-ass leg over her.


  4. I’m not certain this translation is universal. Perhaps some men are from Mars, and others are from just outside of Jupiter or something.

    Where I come from, men are significantly easier to understand. We MOSTLY hear everything you say the way you say it (unless the TV is on, and then really the only thing we hear is the eventual. . . “did you hear a word I just said?”. . . the answer to which is always a lie, “yes, of course I did”.

    But what we THINK can be parsed down to two or three things: 1) You’re not the boss of me, 2) Stop nagging me, 3) Why are you asking me questions you don’t want the answers to?

  5. I had to share with one with my Mom’s Group Facebook peeps. I’m a big fan of this drunken chicken dance, but every once in awhile I want to pick up that iPad with however-many-fricken-levels of Angry Birds attained and crack it over his sweet, balding head. That’s what love is, people 🙂

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