Do Men Truly Prefer Bitchy Women?

Well first, some background. We’ve been with each other for five years, we live together and have so for four, we have a daughter that is fourteen months old and consider ourselves married by will and destiny rather than by the “court of law”, (just sounds more romantic our way, sorry). But anyway, we’re serious, we love each other. Now with that said we, like every other couple in the world, go through our little gripes from sex, to money and savings, to piss on the toilet seat. Usually I care about things, but I don’t care. Honestly, as long as I’m breathing every thing’s okay in my book. Not so true for my husband however, he takes everything very serious, down to the way he dries his underwear. Did I mention I love him? Okay, so anyway it seems that he will often nag and nag and pull an argument through town a million times until I finally cut the chains and unleash the beast. As a matter of fact, I could remember the biggest arguments and the toughest hurdles of our relationship ending in my most vile acts of bitchticity, as due to some miraculous act at that moment, he could suddenly see how serious things were to me.

What’s funny is that I never really thought about it until the other night when we were watching a “Kings of Comedy” style DVD featuring a handful of old and new comedians. It was filmed during All Star season and was funnier than that clip of Beyonce falling down the steps, but there was one special part that wasn’t as funny as it was intriguing. A part where one comedian commented about not wanting a “happy wife”, someone that was all happy to see him come home from work, hugging and kissing him, taking his coat at the door, etc. He said he preferred a bitchier type of woman. The crowd thought it was hilarious and so did my husband. But eh hem, excuse me if I didn’t share the laugh, I was too busy screwing my face up at the fact that I was that woman! And that maybe, just maybe, he was that man that wanted that mean ass wife. Hand over mouth, I was surprised to realize that there was more than a little truth in that “joke” right here in my own house. I mean I’ve baked my man cakes at twelve in the afternoon while he was at work just to surprise him when he came home. Collard greens, cornbread, black eyed peas and fried chicken on a Tuesday for example, gourmet breakfast every Saturday and Sunday and dinner every night (even when I was working). I wake up at four in the morning for goodness sakes just to pack his lunch and make him tea in the morning Monday through Friday. I’m June Cleaver on steroids with a pair of naughty girl stilettos okay? But call me crazy now because I actually like doing all of those things, being counted on and taking care of my family is something I truly don’t mind, most of the time. But I’ve noticed in the past that during those times of ample love and serenity, he searches endlessly for a problem. Whether it was something like how much money I spent on the cake ingredients or shoving food down his throat as soon as he walks in the door, which can then predictably either escalate into me having an eating obsession or him being overworked and underpaid (ooh, what a sexy topic we have there), whatever could be the problem becomes the problem in other words and no matter how sweet I am, he craves a little sour ever so often, apparently.