WIFE: Does anyone local want a perfectly good but sort of old-school crock pot? It works totally fine but was given to my husband by someone I really don’t like, and I can’t enjoy a meal made in that thing.
ME: My wife has systematically eliminated everything I initially contributed to our household. The crock pot, which I didn’t mind even though I can’t stand the person either, was one of the last hold-outs—the last vestige of my bachelorhood. I think the only thing left is a paper towel holder. I’m clinging to it with all my might.
ME AGAIN: And you know, it’s not cool just offering my crock pot to your Facebook friends. Shouldn’t I have some say in its future since it’s MINE?
WIFE: Actually, he did use it a few times this past year to make beef stew… Still, I feel no remorse about giving away his stupid crock pot.
MY GOOD FRIEND, OFFERING SAGE ADVICE TO MY WIFE: Maybe you should offer something of yours up to throw away as a peace offering.
WIFE: Um. No.
Later that night, my wife told me that I could choose the shelter where the crock pot would be sent, but that would be the extent of my part in the decision-making process.
