Why It Sucks to Be the Wife of a Martial Artist

1. Your husband never wants to see any movie anymore unless it stars Jackie Chan, Jet Li, or Bruce Lee, or was directed by Akiro Kurosawa, or made in Hong Kong. Martial-arts themed movies were probably a big reason your husband decided to start training in the first place, and you might even have enjoyed Jet Li's "Fist of Legend" the first or second time he made you watch it. But you've now seen the ^%$!@% flick 302 times and counting, and you hate that you can now remember all the dialogue, word for word.

2. Even if you liked chop-socky flicks before, they're ruined for you now because every time a fight scene occurs, you're subject to constant comments like, "That would never work in real life," or "What a beautiful version of shiho-nage!" or "I'm faster than that guy, you know" or "Let's rewind that. I want to see it again."

3. Odd-looking gadgets and gear now fill the house. Padded sparring gear. Twenty-five different kinds of punching bags. Rattan arm rings. And loads upon loads of exotic, menacing-looking weapons that make any visitor to your home suspect that a serial killer is in residence. Your significant other has channeled his innate male instinct for buying random gadgets into the martial arts. Other men buy plasma TVs and hi-fi equipment. Yours has a selection of butterfly knives, balisongs, and crescent swords, which seem to exist solely so they can either collect dust or destroy the furniture.

4. Your friends and relatives suspect you've turned into a raving harpy who takes a frying pan to her husband's face on a regular basis. It never fails: a few days before a big event - Thanksgiving dinner, your office's holiday party, a family wedding - your husband will come home from a class with a very visible and nasty-looking injury - a black eye or a broken nose or a fat lip. It's nothing serious, and he almost never gets even a scratch in class. But now, right before pictures will likely be taken, even your father will wonder if his poor son-in-law is a victim of spousal abuse.

5. Of course, that's assuming your husband actually shows up to said event. You've lost track a long time ago of how many times he's been late because he couldn't tear himself away from a post-class training jam. You learn that if there's someplace he absolutely HAS to be, he can't be allowed to train for at least 12 hours beforehand.

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