Amber's Blog

So I tell Jane to bring her boy over to a bbq I'm having and she can tell him she's trans at my place surrounded by queer and trans people who love her and will support her if he ends up being awful.

She waits till the end of the bbq to tell him the news, by which point the rest of us have learned that Jason is a kind, friendly, empathetic, hard working, dummy. So we sit down, all of us a little worried about this gym bro's reaction when she tells him she's trans, and that she understands if he doesn't want to keep dating her it's no big deal.

He's baffled, so we explain what trans is, and after the disclosure that she hasn't had bottom surgery yet...

"Oh you have a dick?"

"... yeah."

He look's around at the room full of people with baited breath, his clearly a little afraid girl friend says

"Oooohhhh! I get it! You think- don't worry Babe! Watch this!"

And ya'll this man jumps up, runs into the kitchen and returns with one of the bratwurst we had for grilling and proceeds to tilt his head back, put it down his throat, hold it in his mouth for a moment, and spit it up without even a whisper of a gag and then looks around at the group absolutely beaming with pride.

"Honey, I must tell you, i am in fact trans and I have not had bottom surgery."

My (29F) husband (36M) and I have been together for almost ten years now and like any couple we occasionally get into arguments. Over the years I've noticed a pattern where the day after an argument he'd either give me an eloquently-phrased apology or, more often, a perfectly logically sound counterargument that completely proves that I was in the wrong. My hubby is an intellectual hunk so I've never thought this was suspicious, but the other day he brought up a counterargument that was so logically airtight that my only response was to laugh and say "Did you get that from Reddit or something?", because even though I don't use Reddit I know the reputation it has for being a center for wit and intellectual debate.

Well, turns out I was right. Every time we've ever gotten into a fight, he's always posted about what happened on r/AmItheAsshole and used the comments he gets to decide what to say the following day. When he told me this, I demanded to see some of these posts and he obliged.

To my surprise, not only has he been posting our arguments on this subreddit, he's been posting them from my perspective, writing them as though I'm the one posting these stories on Reddit from over a hundred different throwaway accounts. He'd always "anonymize" the posts too, apparently changing our relationship, genders, and ages with a random number generator, which is honestly really clever because it preserves our privacy without changing any important details for the purpose of deciding who was right in the argument.

Anyway, I really didn't like that he was basically impersonating me on the internet, but of course I didn't want to admit this to him so I made something up about him "misrepresenting" my side of the argument, even though I know he's a perfectly rational man and that it's impossible for him to be biased when describing things from my perspective. So I told him that he needs to stop putting our interpersonal conflicts on Reddit and "think for himself" (and of course I know that he really is thinking for himself but sometimes my womanly emotions cause me to say things I don't really mean. Fortunately he's always able to see through that and understand exactly what I meant to say every time.) but he refused, saying he doesn't think he did anything wrong. And then like always he got really quiet for the rest of the night and we haven't really talked since.

Does this gif mean anything to you?

“I’m just going to pick up the boy from daycare and then it’s date night.”

And the lady says “Oh! How old is he?”

“He’s three.”

“Mine too! Where are you registering him for kindergarten it’s such a hassle-”

And that’s when I realized I said “boy” and not “dog” because I always think of Charlie as “good boy” but this slip up has lead to a miscommunication.

The lady is now 6 minutes into a clearly needed rant about how unnecessarily complex shopping for schools is, esp when you have a neurodivergent child, so I can’t just tell her that Charlie is a dog because then she’ll feel awkward for unloading on me and she clearly has enough going on.

“It really depends on who he’s with. He’s very quiet at he but won’t shut up if he’s at the park or has a friend over.”

“was it hard to potty-train him?”

“he’s adopted, but I was genuinely amazed at how good he already was with hygene and potty stuff.”

“mine’s just obsessed with paw patrol and Frozen, drives me crazy!”

“I imagine. Charlie is colorblind so he’s not as into tv, but he always wants a toy if I take him anywhere with them.”

“oh gosh the toys! And the kids are so rough on them!”

“yeah Charlie can destroy a stuffed animal in about 2 minutes, so I only buy him the really cheap ones.”

“Does he throw tantrums when they break?”

The Very Good Boy in question, Charleston Chew.