This week, my husband, Mark, and I made our first seasonal trip to Pentwater, Michigan. That meant spending 8 hours in the car each way and spending five days together. All of that togetherness reminded me of the annoying things middle-aged men sometimes do.

Since Mark does all the driving, I’ll begin with his annoying driving habits. He swears like Gordon Ramsey at red lights, in heavy traffic, if someone is rude, driving too fast or too slow, old drivers, young drivers,  those who don’t know how to merge and cars with family stick figures on their rear window. My response is usually:  “Passenger is uncomfortable”.

When other drivers specifically target him, (yeah, he really believes that) and he decides to punish the driver, no matter how hard I try to be quiet, a lecture just seems to leak out of me.

He not only does the driving on long trips, he also drives me everywhere including to church, to visit my sister and to do any shopping…and he waits for me in the car! I’m sure he thinks that if he drives, I won’t die. Or, if I do the driving, he may be avoiding a butt-clenching, dashboard-holding, foot-breaking ride in the passenger seat.

And, he always parks in the farthest spot from the store. Since no one else parks that far away, it’s unlikely the car will get scratched. (It’s certainly not for the exercise!) As we walk, I point to every spot we could have had.

Mark also shouts at the television pretty regularly. He knows they can’t hear him, right? Maybe he thinks he can control the Senate, the way the Steelers are playing or the small blonde in the horror movie walking into a dark room with the music in crescendo.

Another bothersome television behavior includes channel surfing. The FX Channel. Oh, wait, Fox News, or, or, the 1940’s Cowboy flick? No. Wait. How about “Ridiculousness”? Back to the Fox News Channel…the hardest part is when he leaves the channel on for more than 2 minutes and I get involved. Forget about it! I’m out of luck.

Then there are the times he falls asleep with the remote in his hand and wakes up long enough to change the channel, to prove he’s not dozing. Then goes back to sleep.

When it comes to conversations that interest me, Mark has few words. Except at the most inopportune times. I’m a last minute Betsy, always running late in the morning. There’s usually just enough time to grab my bag, give Mark a peck, say “I love you” and get in the car. Inevitably that’s when Mark asks, “Did you hear Beyonce and Jay-Z are on the rocks?” Or, “do you believe in the after-life?“ Or, “should I start carrying a gun? You never know when ISIS will strike.” My husband also decides to have a conversation when I turn on the vacuum, head to the bathroom, while I’m drying my hair, washing dishes or in the shower.

He tells little white lies. I’m sure it’s because he doesn’t want to offend me or he wants to avoid a project I have in mind. He may also want to duck long discussions and disagreements (arguments). So when he cut down two trees and removed five bushes in front of our house, he promised they would be replaced. If I question him, he acts like it’s an SS interrogation.  I think he says what I want to hear with the hope I’ll get over it or forget.

Then there’s his fashion sense. He stopped buying clothes just after the Beatles broke up and refuses to wear anything I buy for him. And what’s with all the old, frayed and bleached shirts and pants? He claims they’re his work clothes, but he has enough to last through the cleaning of the Taj Mahal with a toothbrush. No one needs that many work clothes.

Here is something all couples can relate to: a compromised temperature setting. Mark runs the air conditioning from April through November using “allergies”, “dampness” or “stuffiness” as his defense. During winter, the temperature is set to what feels like 50 degrees. Why? Because we must save money?” Battle “global temperature change”? No. Mark just feels warmer than I do. So, he wakes up with two inches of sheet around his ankles and I’m wearing my Elmer Fudd hat and entirely encased in the comforter with a small opening for my nose and mouth, so I don’t suffocate.

Men have long been conditioned to keep their feelings inside. I guess if you’re a man and have “sucked it up” for 40 years, you deserve to get a little grumpy.

There’s no need to feel sorry for me, though. Mark is a wonderful, loving husband  who does so much for me. And I’m sure he’s annoyed with some of my habits/behaviors (but he doesn’t have a blog).

He has coffee made in the morning before I get up. He does all the cooking and grocery shopping. He makes sure my car is gassed and running like a top. Conversation is sometimes profound and he makes me laugh. We have fun together. These characteristics just aren’t as funny as the annoying ones…