I'm Not Sure If I Should Tell You This

I’ve only told a few people what I’m about to tell you, and the reactions have been either contempt or respect with practically nothing in between.  The contempt came exclusively from women, while the respect came from men.  One of my female friends called me an “asshole”.  One of my male friends called me a “genius”.  So, I guess that means if you’re a woman, please let me apologize in advance.  But if you’re a guy, then listen very, very closely.

Weirdly, this has very little to do with the sex (kind of, but I’ll be getting to some sex a little later in the blog).  I’m sorry for the big windup, because it’s really not that Earth Shattering a revelation.  Here ya go- 

I don’t do shit diapers.  I just........don’t.  Sorry, not my job.  Why?  I’ll tell you.

When Mrs. Huttsez and I met, she made it clear very early on that she would be wanting kids.  As I had a 7 year old son from my first marriage and was about to turn 40, I had no desire for more children, but I REALLY liked the future Mrs. H a lot.  So, I said-

“Ok, we’ll have kids, but I have two conditions.  We have the sex 2-3 times a week, and I don’t do any shit diapers.  If you agree to that, you’ve got a deal.”

“Really?!  That’s it?!  Yes!  I agree!”  We hug, beautiful moment, everybody’s happy.

Now, I asked for those two conditions based on past experience- the sex stopped in my first marriage after my son was born, which oddly, I had a problem with.   And the fecal prowess that my son displayed in his pant-crapping-glory-days made me vomit in my mouth more often than I care to admit.  It was not an easy time for a guy with a hair trigger gag reflex, so I had plenty of impetus to work the diaper thing into the deal with Mrs. H.

Was this a sneaky move on my part?  Well, yes.  It was.  My wife didn’t really know what she was agreeing to.  She had no comprehension of the fetid rivers of baby poo that would be surging out of our daughter, breaking through the levee of her diaper so to speak.  I did.  Thus the “asshole” or “genius” moniker.

According to the women, I was not sharing in the responsibilities of caring for my daughter.  I was a dead beat dad in their eyes- weaselling my way out of an unpleasant task and placing it squarely on my wife’s shoulders.  Taken purely on it’s own, I can see their point.  But you know what?  I don’t care.  Sorry.  A deal’s a deal.

My man friends slapped me on the back and applauded my foresight and negotiating skill.  They then kicked themselves for not working that little gem out in their own relationships.  Hindsight being 20/20, and all that.

When my daughter craps her pants, I just give a shout to Mrs. H that she needs a change.  Every single time.  I think I’ve probably only done about 20-30 shit diapers in over 2 years.  Shazam!

"Man my stomach's really gurgling."It hasn’t been easy keeping my wife happy with the deal.  She started to have doubts about it around the 6 month mark when we introduced solid foods, and the “trucker after 3 days of McDonald’s” smells hit her nostrils.  I would gently remind her that we had a deal-  “But look at your beautiful little girl!”  trying to smooth over the cracks (no pun intended), and she has held up her end of the bargain admirably.

It’s not just a one way street.  I do plenty of things to even out the scales of parental responsibility, the biggest one being that my wife gets to sleep in every weekend.  For real, every effing weekend I get up with my daughter so Mrs. Huttsez can have a jolly good rest, and I know she appreciates it.  Just like I appreciate her doing all the poo changing.  We both think it’s a pretty fair deal- we hug, beautiful moment, everybody’s happy.  Maybe I’m not such an “asshole” after all, eh?

Ok, I’ve come clean about my underhanded negotiating tactics.  I leave it to you to decide between asshole and genius.

I’d like to talk briefly about negotiation.

I worked out those two conditions in advance of my daughter’s arrival.  I communicated my needs and desires to the missus and she agreed to my terms of mutual parenthood.   I negotiated the shit out of that shit, AND tossed in the “sleeping in for life on weekends” clause (albeit later) to show my appreciation for all the sweet loving I was getting, and for all the turd tsunamis I wasn’t.

Call it whatever you like- communication, negotiation, arbitration, blah blah blah.  Without healthy and open discourse in a committed, long term relationship, it’s gonna be damn near impossible to stay together.  Seems pretty obvious to me.

So, if you get really good at communicating (negotiating) with your partner, I see no reason why you can’t stay together... forever.  You’ll be happily swimming in a sea of poontang, not changing shit diapers.

OR, blow off the whole “working-things-out-so-you-both-get-what-you-want” approach, get no pussy, and change all the shit diapers.  Hmmmmm.  That’s a tough choice.  

Time for a train ride.

Train Of Thought Time

Good communication is the corner stone to a successful relationship

Without it your relationship will fail

If you get really good at communication, you and your partner will find a way to meet each others needs

The majority of men would agree that one of the biggest “needs” is the sex

Which you can successfully communicate/negotiate for

So getting good at communicating will get you laid

Or not change diapers laden with crap.  Or not unload the dishwasher.  Or whatever it is that you “need”.  So start negotiating!  Work it out, people.

On a side note, I know that I’ve been a bit sweary in this blog.  Just so you know, I’m way swearier when I talk.  In fact let’s do a quick review of the rude words I’ve used.  This is mostly for me- kind of an experiment because I think I’ve held back the deluge of swearing that lives in my soul, and I’d like to see an accurate accounting of rudeness. 

“shit” is the winner at seven 

“asshole” came in at a solid five

“poontang” only once (which is a crime)

and “pussy” once

That’s only 14 rude words out of around 1,000.  You know what percentage that is?  0.014%.  Zero point one four percent of this blog is rude.  Which means that 99.986% is good clean material suitable for any reader.  Thanks for bearing with me through that little experiment, I found it very illuminating.  I mean fuck me, for fucks sake!  I didn’t even fucking say “fuck” once!  

Now that science has verified how much I’m holding back, I stand before you a proud man, saved from a life where expletives are commonplace.  It feels good.

Shazam!That’s it for now.


I may not change shit (8) diapers, but I tweet-  @huttsez

Come on, go and “like” huttsez on facebook, it won’t kill you.


Thanks for reading.  See you soon,


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Reader Comments (13)

You always were mentally irregular. I pride myself on slogging through the diapers part (which wasn't the worst part for me) with both kids, but I didn't have the option of redoing the entire deal like you did for round 2 (um, Nor would I want to, honey! :-P). There are enough parts of the domestic scene where I pull less than my equal weight, tho, so I really can't complain either way.

As for swearing - I maintain that it's nigh-on impossible to express oneself sincerely and honestly without them completely...dosage is of course a matter of personal style. Can ya guess which way I fookin tend, mate? Don't worry. There are plenty of us who make you look perfectly chaste and upstanding.

While I'm here - happy for you that Gunners won. Still out of CL position, tho, iirc. I think Arsene's time is done at Highb-er, Emirates, glorious as it was. Your thoughts?

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterRechavia Berman

Oh - what if you're alone with her? Then you have to, I assume.

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterRechavia Berman

I made a deal with the devil.

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMrs. huttsez

At the crossroads, was it?

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterRechavia Berman

Wow! In retrospect before entering into my union with the wife I should have negotiated. It never occurred to me since I was approaching 40 and had no sprouts. If I could do it over I think I'd negotiate one half of your deal...hell I'da even changed every overflowing shitty diaper if the 2 to 3 times a week thing came into play. Sonofa...You got me thinking now :) Good read Huttzez!

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterWayne Sinclair

Rechavia, thanks for your comments! re football: Dude, are you looking at the table from 2 months ago? Arsenal are in 3rd place, 5 points up on Tottenham and Newcastle, and 7 points clear of Chelsea. Third place is a guaranteed CL spot, so we can control our own destiny. And Arsene is fine, back in everyones good books. 9 wins in the last 10 games forgives a lot. Oh, and when I'm alone and she craps, I hold out through a "20 minute window of hope" that her Mum will return. I f she doesn't, well then hey, I get stuck in. All the best, Mate...

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterHuttsez

Wayne, thanks for your great comment! Glad it got you thinking. Where there's a will, there's a way....
You should use some of the "Smooth Talking Wayne Sinclair" shit that I remember from high school! I assume you've still got it....

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterHuttsez

I think you are an arsehole-genius, plain and simple you are a genius when arseholes are involved, you could become a conisour of arseholes....sorry I'm trying to cover you from both options, I'm not sure where this is going......you a genius bro! x

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterJoe bro

Dude! you've just got a weak stomach for the smelly gross stuff. I'll teach you how to do a diaper one handed in under 30 sec. without spilling your beer. The only ones that bugged me were the ones that occurred within the first three days of birth and looked like steaming black roofing tar. That "shit" came straight from hell.

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterRoss

It's never too late to negotiate a new contract, either. That's the first thing I suggest to couples who come in for therapy. It never occured to most of them that there is always a "contract", whether spoken or not,....and it's always up for re-negotiation. I think a deal is a deal, also,...and you have obviously figured out that you can have flexibility. Good job!!!

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterCGK

But wait. The child is in diapers for MAYBE three years TOPS...but she gets weekends for LIFE? But then, the sex thing is for life, too? So the real deal is---she has sex with you for life and gets to sleep in weekends for life.
Sounds like a win-win to me.

April 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterToby

I seem to remember having sent a reply but there it isn't...

Re: Arsenal: I don't watch as closely as I used to, especially since my team in the EPL, to the extent that I have one, is shyte once again this year (Villa). I knew you guys were on a tear, didn't realize you've leapfrogged Chelski and Spurs. Good on youse. my homie Benayoun scored for y'all the other day. He's a decent sub. Meanwhile fucking Juve have overtaken my Milan over in Italy. At least Barca (whom I'm not a fan of but prefer over Ronaldo and The Specious One) have a chance to make an upset of their own.

As mentioned by others, I think you got a sweet deal. In our house I'm usually the sleeper-inner while she has to sort of reserve it.

And, um, yeah, some adjustments re: sex life after delivery are to be expected, but don't think I could deal with none.

April 12, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterRechavia Berman

Matt you present an interesting point in your response. Seems as though that "Smooth talking Wayne Sinclair shit" has decided to take leave of me, accompanying my hair (at least the hair formally located on the head region of my body) and my former belief that I was hung like a horse (turns out when you only weigh 118 pounds your junk looks a hell of a lot bigger than when you weigh 180. Who knew?) So I'll have to go with something other than that I guess.

April 13, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterWayne Sinclair

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