When I married my husband, I thought I was getting the full package—love, companionship, support, and, crucially, someone who actually listens to me. What I failed to realise was that, much like a suspiciously cheap online purchase, the listening function was sold separately.
Oh sure, he hears me. His ears physically register the sound waves of my voice. But listening? Truly processing the words, retaining information, and responding accordingly? That, apparently, is an optional extra—one I didn’t see in the fine print of the marriage vows.
The Great Illusion of “I Heard You”
To be fair, I don’t think he’s deliberately tuning me out (most of the time). But there is a special kind of frustration in having full conversations, only for him to claim, hours later, that he has absolutely no recollection of them.
• Me: “Don’t forget, we’ve got that thing on Saturday.”
• Him: Blank stare.
• Me: “I told you this yesterday.”
• Him: “Did you?”
Yes. Yes, I did. I told you. I reminded you. I probably repeated myself three times. I might have even sent a follow-up text for good measure. Yet somehow, the information has vanished into the abyss, never to be retrieved.
The Black Hole of Husband Memory
There’s a phenomenon I like to call Husband Selective Amnesia. It occurs when:
• Plans have been made and confirmed.
• Something needs to be done by him.
• The conversation wasn’t about football, gaming, or an interesting tech gadget.
But, strangely enough, this amnesia never affects his interests. He can recall a niche sports statistic from 2014 or the exact specs of a laptop he doesn’t even own, but remembering that we agreed to go to my friend’s dinner party? Completely gone.
And before you ask—yes, I’ve tested this. I once casually mentioned the release date of a game he was looking forward to just once in passing. A week later, he remembered it with absolute precision. Meanwhile, I have to remind him five times that the bins go out on Tuesdays.
The Art of “Uh-huh, Yeah”
One of my favourite husband listening quirks is the automatic response. This is when I’m talking, and he absentmindedly goes:
• “Uh-huh.”
• “Yeah.”
• “Oh, really?”
All while staring at his phone, a game, or quite literally the wall. These phrases are his verbal placeholders, his way of convincing me that he’s engaged when, in reality, he is running on autopilot.
I could test his attentiveness by slipping in something ridiculous:
• Me: “I’m thinking of quitting my job to become a goat herder in the Alps.”
• Him: “Uh-huh.”
• Me: “I’m also selling the house to fund my new dream of underground worm farming.”
• Him: “Oh, really?”
Only when I stop talking does he realise something is off.
• Him: “…Wait, what?”
Exactly.
How I’ve Adapted (Because Clearly, He Won’t)
Over time, I’ve developed a few survival strategies to deal with my husband’s listening deficiency:
1. The Follow-Up Text Method – If something is important, I text it to him. Screens seem to hold a magical power over his attention span that my voice apparently lacks.
2. The “Make Him Repeat It” Trick – If I suspect he’s not actually listening, I suddenly say, “What did I just say?” This catches him completely off guard, and his panicked attempt at recall is always amusing.
3. The “Hold the Face” Move – Before saying anything critical, I make direct eye contact and pause until he acknowledges me properly. If I don’t do this, I might as well be talking to the furniture.
4. The “Fake Emergency” Approach – If I ever need his full attention instantly, I dramatically gasp. This triggers his “alert mode,” but I have to use it sparingly, or he’ll catch on.
But Honestly? I Wouldn’t Change Him
Despite my frequent exasperation, I have to admit—this is just part of who he is. He’s not ignoring me out of malice. His brain just seems to be optimised for sports scores, gaming news, and selectively remembering things.
And while it’s frustrating, I know he listens when it really matters. When I need support, reassurance, or a real conversation, he’s there. Maybe not when I remind him about weekend plans or household tasks, but in the moments that truly count.
So yes, I might not have realised that the listening function was an extra feature I didn’t sign up for, but I did get the husband who supports me, makes me laugh, and puts up with my own quirks (like my absolute certainty that I’m always right, duh!).
And if he ever forgets this? Well, I’ll just remind him. Probably five times.
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