- He likes to ruin pictures by whispering something creepy to me right before the flash goes off:
- He calls me chumba. ("Chumba, are you asleep?" "What's wrong with my little chumba?" "Listen, chumba, I'll stop playing when I get to a place where I can save.")
- When he is showing pictures of animals to Ward and gets to the hippos, instead of saying "hippo" Sloan carefully articulates "mama." So Ward thinks that hippos are called mamas.
- He sets my iphone screen to photos like this:
- He misinforms me constantly, almost pathologically, regarding trivial information. Things like the names of people he knows when I spot them around his hometown. "Him? Oh yeah, that's Abner Glockenspiel, remember? Go say hi! What?? That's his name! You are so immature, Julia." Or if he starts watching a movie on Netflix when I'm not there see the actual title, he will not tell me what the name of the movie is until I basically have an emotional meltdown. This may sound stupid, and it is, but it is surprisingly irksome. "What does it matter, Julia? Why do you HAVE to know the name of this movie? Just sit back, relax, and watch it with me! Just think of our home as a name-free zone for media." One time, we got 90 minutes into a movie before he'd tell me the name of it, The Day the Cows Came Home. As you can guess, when I tried looking up the movie days later on IMDB, that title didn't exist. Still not certain of the name.
- And one time, he farted on my pillow when he THOUGHT I wasn't looking.
I guess I'm publishing this more for posterity than anything else, because I have no solution to this problem that doesn't include self-medicating and/or illegal acts.