Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I'm not giving Fred back, so ha!
Greetings, husbands, fiancé's, boyfriends, and blokes in general. This is going to be a quick field guy to understanding the vocabulary of women. Not what they're saying, but what they actually mean when they say it. You see, women, the fine, tantalizing creatures that they are, are quite confusing. They never put what they're thinking or feeling in plain old fashioned words, but they chose to hide it behind words that usually mean quite the opposite of what they're thinking. Birds have been tripping us blokes up since the beginning of time with this, so, I decided it was about time someone wrote it all down. Merlin knows I could have used it.
Each chapter will include a word, a definition, a brief explanation of when the word can be expected, and an example from my home life.
So, without further ado:
A Muggle and Wizard's guide to what women are saying.
Entry one: Fine.
This is a word women use at the end of any argument that they feel they are right about but need to shut you up. It's a tricky little bludger because it makes it sound as if they are fine. That is not the case. It only means they are dropping the topic until later, when they will take resume the argument and put you in what they feel is your rightful place.
On an important side note; NEVER use "fine" to describe how your woman looks. This will cause you to have one of the afore mentioned arguments.
"Fred!" I looked up from the sofa I was sitting on to see my new wife walk into the room with narrowed eyes. It is never a good sign when she had that face on. It's the one that promises lots of pain if I failed to correct whatever I had done wrong.
"Yes, love?" I questioned, straightening up and giving her my best smile. She didn't soften her glare at all, instead her eyes narrowed even more. She held up a single object, one I didn't recognize at first.
"Do you know anything about this?" She asked, her voice holding a warning note. I glanced at her before studying the object. It was a sock, my sock. She had knitted them for me last Christmas, they were orange with black "F's" around the top.
"Umm," I said, that's me, just incredibly intelligent, "It's my sock?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from sounding unsure.
"Yes, and just where did you leave it?" She growled out, tossing the offending article of clothing at me. I caught it in the air and stood up, frowning. I had left it in my drawer, not in the floor or the hamper or even in the bathroom. I hadn't actually done wrong this time.
"Precisely!" I blinked at her in confusion. I was definitely missing part of this conversation. Namely, the part where I had actually messed up.
"What's wrong with that? Isn't that where they're supposed to go?"
"Yes, but they were put in wrong!" both my eyebrows went up at that statement.
"They were folded up in the drawer." I stated, my eyes wide. I had put the bloody sock in the drawer, what more did she expect? How was I supposed to know there was a proper and improper way to fold a sock? (Little tip for you guys reading this, watch how your bird folds her socks and mimic it. There is a proper and improper way of folding socks.)
"They weren't folded correctly. You balled them up! They should have been folded ¾ up." She informed me, growing more agitated.
"They were folded, what does it matter what they're folded up like?" I questioned, frowning at her.
"Because it isn't proper! They don't look as nice if they're just balled up."
"What does that matter? No one but us looks in our sock drawer." I retorted.
"Fine." She huffed, turning around and stalking back to the bedroom.
The dreaded 'fine,' guys.
I glanced down at the rumpled sock in my hand and frowned at it, feeling annoyed and upset. That had probably been the most ridiculous argument we'd ever had.
I went into the bedroom with a sigh and saw my wife jerking away at the drawer and pulling socks out of it. She was tossing them on the bed with out a look at them. I stepped behind her and started to unroll the socks. She turned partially towards me with a frown until she saw what I was doing. Her eyes softened slightly and she handed me my other orange sock. I folded it the 'proper' way and handed it back to her for her inspection.
"Much better." She said quietly before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to my lips.
See, knowing what women are really saying will make all the difference, and make things much more enjoyable for you in the long run.
A/N: This is mostly going to be a silly fic based off a list my hubby sent me. He told me that every guy should be required to read this so that they can understand their women. Honestly, I think we're all perfectly clear, they just don't understand plain english.
Please, please, please Review and let me know what you think about this story! I love reading your ideas and thoughts, I am seriously addicted to the things!
Until the next chapter,
Wizards_Pupil
