Dear Crabby, She Can’t Decide!

Dear Crabby,

My wife and I are very different about how we make decisions. I am quick to decide and she takes forever. How do you recommend that I deal with this?

Sincerely, Redding Setgo

Dear Mr. Setgo,

I do not think this issue is solely between you and your lovely wife; this is more of a gender issue. Mrs. Crabby and I have had this issue for as long as I can remember. For me, it goes back to when I was a kid. Whenever my father would take me to a restaurant, he would ask me what I wanted to eat before we even entered the building. He would say, “Just think about what you want now – either a hamburger, sandwich, or chicken. Then decide.” If I didn’t pick before we were seated, he would choose for me and just tell the waitress to bring me a hamburger with everything. I learned to be qiuck on my feet and decide on a moment’s notice. I never even knew that these places had menus until I was in my twenties. Then I married Mrs. Crabby. She was raised in the family of “take-your-sweet-time-and-read-the-whole-menu-including-the-fine-print-details!” Every time we walked into a place I would say, “What do you want honey?” And just like clockwork, she would say, “Well, I don’t know, I haven’t even seen the menu yet.” I tried the whole, “think about what you want or I’ll just order for you” bit, but it worked about as well as could have been expected. So, now I tell her to order my usual for me and then I take my sweet time going to the bathroom while she reads her menu. Then, there is the whole issue of her cooking at home for me. She can’t just go make eggs for us. The conversation goes something like this; “Honey, would you like some eggs?” To which I reply, “Why yes, Dear, that sounds grand. Thanks.” And she says, “Great, would you like them fried, scrambled, or sunny-side up?” I quickly answer, “Scrambled – as usual.” She continues, “You want one or two?” I no sooner get the word “two” out of my mouth and she says, “You want cheese on those?”   “No thanks,” I reply. Without skipping a beat, she asks, “How about pepper?” I try to stifle my grumbling and simply say, “Nope,” but then she says, “What about toast?” At this point, I am really starting to bubble inside. But I calmly say, “Yes, Dear, that will be fine.” As if after this many years together she could have any doubts what I would choose, she says, “White or wheat?” I grit my teeth and try to refrain from jumping out a two-story window and say, “Wheat will be just fine.” It is at that moment that she then draws the last straw. She asks, “You want jelly or cinnamon on that toast?” Wow! How could anyone have that many questions before 7:00 in the morning?  By that point, I am exhausted and would just love to actually have something – anything – to eat. If nothing else, this recurring escapade as has taught me to have more patience in life. I have also learned to try some other food options off of menus. Now that I am an adult, I’ve discovered that I don’t actually like hamburgers with everything on them, and that sunny-side up is actually not that bad either. I say learn to be flexible and maybe she will learn to speed up as well – don’t get too hopeful about that second one though.

Sincerely, Dear Crabby

Stuck in a rut? Need some advice? Ask Dear Crabby at

About Dear Crabby

Stuck in a rut? Need some biased advice from a crabby old baby-boomer? Read regularly by thousands and loved by some, Dear Crabby answers questions weekly to life's challenges. Send him a note at

Speak Your Mind