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The World’s Worst Witness

Categories giggles
police sketch | my husband sucks at descriptions

This year I have set a goal for myself to write 52 Essays: one finished piece every week. I’m not sure what you can expect from them because I’m sort of winging it. Some will be good. Some will be less good. Hopefully you’ll love them. Maybe you’ll hate them. We’ll just have to wait and see. 😉

Guys, I’m pretty sure my husband is the worst person in the history of the universe at describing people. I mean, it was bad enough when he gave a “meh” shrug at the mention of Natalie Portman and said “She’s cute, I guess” (um, no dear. She’s gorgeous). But I am now convinced that if I were the victim of a crime, my husband is the absolute last person on the face of the earth that I would want tasked with describing the bad guy.

Bad Dad would leave even the most seasoned of police sketchers (that’s what they’re called, right?) with a drawing that looks like this:

police sketch | my husband sucks at descriptions

Think I’m exaggerating?

The other day we had this conversation when he returned from the grocery store:

Bad Dad: I think I saw someone you know.

Me: Yeah? Who?

Bad Dad: I think one of the moms from school?

Me: [Going through a long list of possible candidates]

Bad Dad: …..

Me: Well, what did she look like?

Bad Dad: Brown hair… kinda dumpy?

There are two things I find insane about this little exchange. First was the way his voice lilted up at the end, as if he was asking me a question. “Do you think this mysterious woman with the dark hair that you can’t possibly identify is dumpy? Because I might classify her as dumpy.”

How could he think that description would narrow anything down? It’s like asking someone what a car looks like and having them answer “Blue… four doors?” Ohymgosh! YES! The blue car! With the four doors! Of course I know it!

I even tried pressing him further to get an idea of her approximate height or how she may have been dressed and got nothing—aside from more lilting. Yoga pants? I wanted to strangle him.

I’m not exactly sure why I was surprised. My husband is notoriously clueless when it comes to noticing things. I like to play a game where I change something that I consider major and wait to see how long it takes him to notice. More often than not the game totally sucks because I forget about it before he ever notices anything. If he ever notices anything.

What the cuss? Is it a guy thing? I don’t understand how a human being can survive 30+ years with absolutely no observational skills.

The second thing that killed me about this conversation is that there was no story except that he saw a woman. Why even bring the woman up if you have absolutely nothing to give me except “brown hair… kinda dumpy?” He literally had no more information to add. He just thought he’d inform me that he saw an entirely forgettable woman that I might possibly know.

Thank you, husband.

Please tell me that I’m not alone in this department. Please tell me your husbands and significant others are similarly clueless. And please don’t let that man be the sole witness to the theft of some bananas at the grocery store. Because they’re gonna be out of luck. And bananas.

essay 2/52

Jen is a freelance writer and girl mom from New York. When she’s not knee-deep in glittery crafts and girl talk, you can probably find her sprawled across her couch in the middle of a Netflix marathon with dark chocolate smeared on her face. The struggle is real.


9 thoughts on “The World’s Worst Witness

  1. At least he said something. Better than some random woman coming up to you in a week saying, “Did your husband tell you I saw him at the store the other day?” So embarrassing saying, “No, he didn’t. In fact he doesn’t tell me any thing I need to know.” And, might I add that random woman would probably say something like, “Well the entire store heard the baby crying and I had to find out where it was coming from and I saw him in the beer aisle with your little one.” Yeah, my husband doesn’t go to the store.

    1. Haha! So true. I guess it’s better that he mentioned it than a random woman walking up to me and telling me she saw my husband and me turning all “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME????”

      So much neurosis at play.

      Still, I stand by my assertion that he has the worst observational skills ever! lol.

  2. haha!
    I can say my dude friend has above average observational skills, luckily! Because he’d be a pretty subpar policeman without them!
    But do you ever find that your guy claims to have “skills” that he just doesn’t!? For instance, mine thinks he has great “spatial awareness” (1. Woohoo, weirdo. Who brags about that?! 2. Whatta geek.) But I find myself hissing, “Babe, back up…” when he’s clearly too close to the customer in front of us in the grocery line. It’s like a 4 year old who doesn’t get personal space!
    Dudes.
    Good grief.

  3. Ahahaha! I love it! I can 110 % see this conversation between you two. Also, I used to think Tim was just playing dumb- “how is it possible for anyone to be that clueless? He can obviously describe this better but is doing it to be annoying!” But I really think you’re right- he’s just the worst.

    Rob, on the other hand, notices EVERYTHING! “Oh you got new socks!” “Hey, those glasses are much more rectangular than your old ones!” But this is a huge problem when I ask him to perform a simple task- everything is very specific. Picking up apple juice from the grocery store requires at least 3-4 phone calls.
    Call 1) did you want me to go to cvs or stop and shop? What aisle is it in?
    Call 2) they have 3 different brands- motts, juicy juice and stop and shop. Which one should I get?
    Call 3) did you want 40% less sugar? Apple and white grape? Apple harvest?

    By the time he’s back, I could have gone apple picking, come home, and juiced my own apples.

    1. I’m wondering if the sound of my laughter could be heard all the way in Long Island, because that totally cracked me up. If you’re ever wide awake during late night feedings and feel like putting together a blog post, please do. I would love it.

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