So, I married a Grunt. Big, thick neck, huge muscles, and he even sleeps with his eyes open (weird, I know). I heard all the stereotypical jokes about our men in the infantry not being the brightest of the bunch, and I know what you’re thinking: all muscle no brain. But I lucked out.  My man’s brain did not just consist of meat and testosterone. However, sometimes he would do certain things around the house that had me buying into the hype. Like the time he put a can of soup in the microwave. All common sense seems to go out the window any time I have him help with household chores. I couldn’t help but think, is there some truth to the Grunt stereotype? Are Grunts really that dumb?

When it came to work around our home my hubby seemed to be a little behind the curve. When my husband came back from deployment I remember staring at him dumbfounded as he unloaded the dishwasher. I thought to myself, “Good God! Has this man ever lived here in this home? Has he been in ANY kitchen? What kind of moron puts the soup bowls away in the food hamper?” This was the same guy who spent months searching all over Iraq for weapons caches, but he could not take the extra second to figure out the organization of our kitchen cupboards? When I questioned him, he shrugged, grunted, and said maybe he shouldn’t do something so complicated. 

I held my tongue and decided to pick my battles. After all, this man knew more about leading a platoon than how to maneuver around a kitchen. Unfortunately though, my patience did not last and I lost it a week later with the now infamous “laundry incident.” In one week my husband managed to wash a pen with each load of his utilities. Magically one of my shirts or blouses made its way into each load. everything was ruined. When I asked him for the third time, “Did you forget to check the pockets?” He just shrugged and grunted again stating maybe he should not do something so complicated. I freaked and told him he was never allowed to do laundry again. Punishment issued. 

I was pretty pleased with myself and the way I had effectively delegated household responsibility until a couple of weeks later.  I was sweating over folding the fourth load of laundry one Saturday afternoon and spotted my husband sitting on the couch drinking beer and watching Ultimate Fighting.  With a furrowed brow I asked, “Sweetheart, can you help me out here?” He looked me shrugged, grunted and said, “You told me not to.”  

I realized I'd been had! After a month of Jon being back from deployment, his “Honey do” list was now a “Honey Don’t” list. My man somehow had manipulated his way out of all his household duties right under my nose. I immediately knew what to do. I barked handing over the laundry basket, “Fold this, I know they taught you Grunts all about that in basic, then you can make all the beds. After that, I’ll go get you a tooth brush and you can get those scuff marks on the floor! I know how good Grunts are at doing that!” After I issued that order, there was no more shrugging and grunting. 

Ladies, Grunts aren't as dumb as they may appear. When it comes to chores around the house, just make sure it’s their kind of grunt work.