The Eyebrow of Doom

It may be hard to tell here, but you can almost see the Eyebrow of Doom.

I'm gonna sing the doom song! Doom da doomie da doom doom doomie.

I’m gonna sing the doom song! Doom da doomie da doom doom doomie.

Now, I get the raised eyebrow a lot. Normally it means one of three things:

1. I’m getting ready to get scolded. -In my best the husband voice-

The foot is down.

2. I did something stupid, which means the eyebrow raises only long enough for him to let me know I did something stupid. It’s like the warning shot before the laughter and endless teasing follows.

or 3. I was wrong.

I don’t like that last one.

See, I can handle when “the foot is down”, because this white chick and her lack of rhythm can pull off some fancy dance moves to get around that one. Hence why the daughter is getting the One Direction bed set she asked for…regardless of the many “foot downs” that took place.

And I can handle doing something stupid, because…it’s me. I’ve gotten used to that about myself.

I don’t like that last one. I don’t like to be wrong. I like it even less, because when I finally have to admit it the eyebrow goes up, as does the corner of the mouth in that little I-knew-it smirk, and I get the silent, twinkling of the eye that is the equivalent of some Greek grandmother wagging a finger in my face and yelling “I told you so!” It’s the cone of shame, dammit.

download (2)

So, when we went to Walmart and I see a lady standing at the end of the row where the cash registers are looking all friendly and helpful like the Walmart people do standing there when they have no costumers and are ready to wait on someone…

Me:   Oooh, look there’s a lady open down there.

The husband:   I think that’s self-checkout.

Me:   No it’s not. C’mon.  -To the Walmart lady.- Are you open?

Sorry Ma'am. This is self-checkout.

Sorry Ma’am. This is self-checkout.

Oh! And that’s AFTER he found the shirts that I swore they were sold out of, because I couldn’t find them anywhere, except I neglected to look in the main aisle where there were stacks of the neon horrors.

It's more for safety than style...I mean, he works in the dark with big dangerous machines. Give him a break.

It’s more for safety than style…I mean, he works in the dark with big dangerous machines. Give him a break.

Or when we argued the whole way home about this video for Adrenalize by In This Moment. We both might have a bit of a girl crush on the lead singer…

But who wouldn't? She's total girl crush material.

But who wouldn’t? She’s total girl crush material.

And so I swore that in the beginning of the video she was walking out in her nurse outfit with a rabbit mask on. He said no, it was some almost faceless, nude colored mask.

We argued.

I pulled up the video on my phone, but the screen is so small (not small enough that I couldn’t tell it wasn’t a rabbit mask, but small enough that I shoved it back into my pocket and thought to delay until we got home)…

So he pulled it up on his bigger, fancier phone.

Yeah. But there are rabbit masks…later in that video. If you watch the whole thing.

Just saying.

And then tonight happened. You see, while we were at Walmart I grabbed The Dark Knight out of a $5 bin thinking the kids would love to see it. It’s Batman. Of course they’d love it.

The husband:   That’s a little old for them.

Me:   It’s Batman! It’s fine.

The husband:   It’s violent, and the Joker is a little intense in that one.

Me:   Oh, pfft. They’ll be fine.

The Dark Knight came on TV today, and so I let the son sit down and watch it with me.

The son:  The Joker is killing a lot of people.

Me:   Yeah…-Uneasy-

The son:   He said son of a… 

Which is when I slapped a hand over his mouth, shook my head no repeatedly, and turned on SpongeBob.

I forgot how scary that guy was.

And then my mother…my traitorous mother (I say that with love and affection) TOLD THE HUSBAND about the Batman catastrophe…

I had to do it.

I had to put on the cone of shame.

Me:   You were right.

The husband:   Oh yeah?

-Insert Eyebrow of Doom here-

27 thoughts on “The Eyebrow of Doom

  1. See and reading this I thought about how did my ex always find a solution for it. Ooh right give head like a pussy cat would do and purr. Now I know that is not for the younger audience. Lets just say I was the one unable to keep my foot down after all that disaster it was up the sofa. Making my moves in one direction
    And yes a killer babe but than again I prolly think that of every woman right now. yes I know I am a sad little birdie laughing at your lampshade.
    Shine on.

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    1. Giving head like a champ is probably the way most women get out of the “foot is down”. And no one said this blog was for the younger audience lol.

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          1. Pretty sure big enough to catch you when you fall.
            Ooh you can complain all you want as a woman and argue until having a tantrum al he gives is a eyebrow of doom. still better than going turbo on you.
            And you wasn’t wrong. you just made a mistake like number 2. No worry be happy. sing a song meow meow meow bake a cookie crunchie crunch and smile there is a crumble stuck between your teeth there. no no here. yes.

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            1. That picture doesn’t do the Eyebrow of Doom any justice. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to photograph it in its frightening entirety.

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  2. It is the illusive bad guy calling him self the Eyebrow Of Doom. Never seen before nobody knows what he looks like. Said he is married to a colourful lady his identity is well hidden with only a muscle away.
    Times like this call for doing the wrong thing to have fake justice himself come from hiding. A villain who always wants to be right and gets it with his heavy foot down.
    Yeah for man who can tame a tantrum.

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  3. Ha! I’m pretty sure my boyfriend has this eyebrow of doom thing down, pat. It’s usually over some fact of trivia, like what the capital of a country is (I can’t even properly locate Iowa, oops) but I always beat him, HANDS DOWN, on questions of memory. His is terrible. Then my eyebrows get to go all doom, all the time.

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    1. You know…I am incapable of the single eyebrow raise. I also cannot wink or whistle. I’d consider it a tragedy, but I’m one of the 10% of people who can bend their tongue in half…horizontally. So, I win that at least.

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        1. You know…I may have to take a picture. I’m not sure I can really explain it any better. Basically, I can take the tip of my tongue, bend it back into my mouth and lay it flat against the rest of my tongue so the entire thing is bent in half and sticks that way. It is quite unattractive, and I am proud to say the daughter can do it as well 😀

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        2. Okay, I found the picture! Not of me, but this is it. We went to the Ripley’s Believe it or Not house and got tricked by the two way mirror where they said only 10% of people could fold their tongue like this…not knowing that people walking through could see all the people trying to do it on the other side. But I could do it…so I didn’t look half as bad as all the people drooling who couldn’t. 😀

          Image and video hosting by TinyPic

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          1. Woooooaaaah!!!!
            I can only do this like partially. That is absolutely HILARIOUS that they have that set up at Ripley’s Believe it or Not! I could probably stand there all day and watch people do that… which may make me a pervert.

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            1. I about died when I walked the rest of the way through and realized it was a mirror. I just stood there thinking…”Well, I didn’t look THAT bad.”

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