The seven habits of highly irritating husbands.

I love Mr Woog to bits. No doubting that for a second. But unlike me, he is not perfect, so I am taking this opportunity to point out his faults on the World Wide Web. Because I love him to bits.


Not a day goes by that I do not get up and find a plate on the bench above the dishwasher. Mere centimeters away from the door of the dishwasher.

Yeah you should pray, dude.


Last night I told him that there was a bra under wire caught in the washing machine. I watched him walk into the laundry and peer in. “HOLY CRAP!” he screeched at the top of his voice. He is one for extreme over-reactions and saying “I have had a disaster……”

This is not what happened to the washing machine.


Unwanted of course. My favourite is when he gives me parenting advice. The problem is that he will often contradict himself within a few short sentences. Or when he says things like “The kids need to eat dinner at 5 or they will go feral…..” when really it is HE who wants to eat at 5 because he is living on pensioner time.


Mainly showering, which can be up to 3 times a day. I am not sure if he is just purely filthy, a chronic masturbator or just likes having a shower.

Budget meetings.

He calls for a budget meeting about once a week, where he will go through upcoming expenses and brainstorm ways to save cash. “We have nothing to insure, so why do we need insurance?” “What is wrong with doing your own nails?” “I really, really like grey hair on you….” It is the same each week. I nod, make agreeable noises and proceed to ignore everything.


Excessive whipper snipping and mowing at 8am on a Saturday Morning.

No need for commenting on this one. You could set your watch by this.

Just no.

Absentmindedly taking me from the rear.

Sorry. You did read that right. I could be bent over unpacking the dishwasher, and he will dash over and dry hump me. Like some sort of horny dog on Viagra. Or I could be bending over picking clothes off the floor or tying my shoelaces. And there he is. Humping.

He did it on Christmas Day at a family gathering. Apparently my ass in the air is not dissimilar to Pavlov’s bell.

He did this last night as I was stacking the dishwasher. I stopped, pushed him away and asked“Do you really think that that is a turn on?” He explained it was just a gut reaction. He then suggested I blog about it to see if it was just him who did this.

I suspect he is not the only one?

This post originally appeared on Mrs Woog's blog, Woogsworld. You can like her on facebook, follow her on twitter and follow her on instagram.

Does your partner have a highly irritating habit?