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Hubby, Don’t: Term of Endearment or Upsetting Sobriquet?
After two years of marriage I still am occasionally surprised that I’m somebody’s Mrs. I find being a wife rather delightful and married life suits me very well but there are a few habits of wedded bliss that simply aren’t for me. I’m not saying it’s a slippery slope from “Hubby” to peeing with the door open, but I am wary of it just the same.
I get that rather than name repetition or for the sake of anonymity many writers use the affectionate Hubby when referring to one’s male spouse. It’s a two syllable personal pronoun like Grandma, convenient and conversational. Hubby is economic and the intention in most cases, I think, is to sound cozy and casual.
But I must say it grates on me: rhymes with chubby and conjures an amorphous flesh-colored couch denizen. Hubby isn’t someone I like very much. I mock Hubby’s ineptitude at sports; I think Hubby is a terrible dresser; I would never leave Hubby alone with the kids for a weekend, lest he let them watch Taxi Cab Confessions and dine on Snickers and Budweiser.
Hubby isn’t the person I went to bars with in college or drove across country with; I would not have gone to see the Yeah Yeah Yeahs at the Bowery Ballroom with Hubby and I certainly would not accept Trashy Lingerie from Hubby. It wouldn’t even occur to Hubby to buy lingerie. Hubby has a gut. Hubby golfs. I feign sleep in bed with Hubby.
And at first I thought it merely sounded gross but the more I consider it, I do find it derogatory. Hubby is the incompetent dad of the previous sitcom era: the fumbling, bumbling, chump, the fool too male to be wise; Tim Allen at his simian worst. It was only natural that men became the object of the joke when women asserted themselves as equals in the household. But that trope was hackneyed to begin with and I hope well tapped as a source of comedy at this point.
The birth of Hubby is the end of sex. It’s sweatpants and flatulence for all involved. I like my marriage to be one part The Philadelphia Story to one part Mr. and Mrs. Smith: bantery, sexy, madcap and caperish. I recognize this as an ideal we all try to maintain, which I know becomes more difficult over time, especially when you add children, with all their idiosyncrasies and paraphernalia into the mix. But one must try to keep the mystery alive or why bother really.
Every single marriage looks different. Each has its own landscape and language that would not work for any other couple. I’m still learning what kind of wife I want to be and loving the kind of husband Malcolm is, even though we are no longer newlyweds. And I am resigned that along the way certain behaviors and formalities will go missing, replaced by other habits of familiarity. But for now I still double check the bathroom lock when I do my business and call him “dude” more often than I maybe should.
Jillian, I think this is a well written post.
However, I wanted to take a minute to disagree with you. I am not sure from where your associations with the word “hubby” spring, but mine are almost opposite.
As a modern, slang word, hubby to me is a slightly less-sexed companion to “wifey,” and it does not carry any of the horrid, stereotypical married-male attributes which you somehow have associated with it. While “hubby” does rhyme with “chubby,” and while this rhyme has been capitalized upon by a famous ice cream maker, I don’t believe the adjective was ever meant to intimate anything truthful about the definition of the noun, just as we were not intended to believe that the leader of the Grateful Dead was in fact made out of cherries.
To me, a hubby is young husband, the alteration of the traditional word “husband” a sign of an anti-traditionalist conception of “marriage,” the kind where Jack Benny and Budweiser beer bellies are banned; they drink Dogfish Head and go to see the Yeah Yeah Yeahs instead. Wifey and hubby enjoy an active sex life, and, as a result, not only does it occur to hubby to buy wifey lingerie, but it places Agent Provocateur among his favorite gifts to give. Wifey and hubby may be yuppies or hipsters or scenesters or punk rockers, but, whatever they are, their conception of marriage is certainly different than that of the WWII/Korea/Vietnam eras and their associated sitcoms.
Just my 2 cents! Keep up the beautiful writing!
Hah! I just told Tia (who uses the term ‘Hubby’ liberally) that I disliked the word myself. I too envision the out-of-shape couch potato….and I’m sorry Jaywbigred but ‘Hubby’ and ‘Wifey’ sound like an old couple to me.
i just thought that married life is the happiest point of my life..’,
married life is a bit exciting but you will have lots of responsibilities.:,’