My wife's hormones are out of control. It's like I'm married to a bat out of hell. She's not pregnant or menopausing, but she's so hot and so cold and loves to scream bloody murder at me at random times for inconsequential reasons. Any idea on how I can tame her?
—The PMS Wife
Oh buddy. The Leo in me is tempted to claw your ignorance out and let my dogs bury it.
But you asked for sage advice, so I'll wax on and off.
If she's huffing upset all the time, you could be part of the problem, good sir. Suck on that for a minute while I finesse you into a fine fact of females. ("Finesse" doesn't include sex.)
Every time a broad gets upset, it doesn't mean she's on the rag. Every time she yells, it doesn't mean she's PMSing. Every time she sheds a tear, it doesn't mean there's a human in her uterus.
And life's problems obviously aren't "inconsequential" if it bothers her so.
So what does it mean? We may be having a bad day and it would be nice if you inquired. We're tired and hungry, and you get the same way too, so STFU. Maybe she just needs a hug and wants to talk.
Or maybe she needs an ego boost and your lack of sensitivity has her erupting rage. Or maybe you're a deadbeat. Maybe she's just unhappy? I don't know you pleasant humans, but your assumptions are enough to make any female fume.
If it makes you feel better to call it "hormones," so be it. Know I warned you.
Your homework is to study up on menopause before her "change of life" or you may be spooning the ignorance in my yard after she kicks you out. (Menopausing isn't a word.)
I accidentally elbowed my boyfriend hard in the bojangles and he started crying, but I couldn't help but laugh as a first response. Now he's so mad at me and won't let it go, no matter how many times I apologize.
Bojangles. Isn't that a song or a fried chicken joint or something?
Apologies, this is not something to take lightly.
Laughing was not a good call. Us broads will never know how it feels to get nailed in the nuts. We know it hurts because we observed the sudden hunch, cringed expression and watch the burger they had for lunch end up on the sidewalk. (This is why Jesus invented jock straps.)
Do you laugh when you're nervous? If so, you need to explain this to him. Otherwise, while his testicles are erupting liquid hot magma, he's not only lightheaded and seeing spots, his inner ears are in flux and he's crying in the fetal position about to vom (Charlie Sheen, is that you?) — and you're laughing.
Yes, you recognized it, apologized for it and hopefully won't do it ever again, but you may have to keep reassuring him. He's probably still gun shy because your flailing elbows are, for some reason, right at ball height.