The Day I Tried To Fix My Girlfriend’s Annoying Chewing Habit
My girlfriend chews ice. Loudly. Sounds like a gravel crusher in a marble quarry. One Tuesday night, the crunch crunch crunch hit my last nerve. I decided I’d “solve” it. Diplomatic approach first, right?
Wednesday morning, I grabbed my notebook. Labeled a fresh page: “Operation: Silence the Ice Monster.” Phase one: observe. I needed data. So, I watched her like a hawk every time she pulled ice from the freezer. Made mental notes:
- Crushed ice = WAY louder
- Cubes = annoying but slightly better
- Chewing slower? Never. Turbo mode always.
Felt like a weird scientist spying on his subject. Creepy? Probably. Necessary? In my head, yeah.
Phase two: gentle intervention. Friday movie night. Popcorn bowl. Glass filled with ice cubes. Crunch started immediately. I took a deep breath. Tapped her shoulder gently. “Babe? You know… that ice chewing? Kinda… loud?” Gave her my best innocent, loving smile. She blinked. “Is it bothering you?” “Uh, just a tiny bit? Maybe?” “Oh.” She shrugged. Crunch Crunch CRUNCH. Louder. Failed utterly.
Weekend. Phase three: sneaky environmental control. I figured if I removed the source of the ice… genius! Sunday morning, I pretended to clean the freezer. “Whoops! Looks like the ice maker’s acting funny, hon!” Emptied every single cube into the sink. She went out for soda later. Victory, I thought, doing a silent happy dance on the kitchen tiles. Monday evening… she walks in holding a giant cup from the gas station. Filled to the brim with crushed ice. Clink… crunch crunch crunch. She caught my defeated stare. “What? They have free ice!” Operation: Fail Spectacularly.
Phase Four: Desperate Measures. Bought fancy “whisper-quiet” chewable silicone ice cubes Tuesday. Expensive. Looked like weird clear gummies. Presented them after dinner like a peace offering. “Try these! Supposed to feel just like ice!” She eyed them suspiciously. Popped one in her mouth. Chewed twice. Spit it right back out. “This tastes like sadness and plastic.” Then she got mad. “Why are you trying to fix how I eat ice?! Are you perfect?!” Boom.
That hit me. I sat down. Actually listened. She pointed out my habits:
- My super loud teeth grinding when stressed? Like rocks in a blender.
- The annoying way I sigh heavily while doing dishes? Big martyr energy.
- Leaving cupboard doors wide open? Tripping hazard.
Her list was longer than mine.
Operation: Ice Monster became Operation: Self-Awareness. Realized I was obsessing over her one habit while ignoring my own pile of annoying traits. Who was I to “fix” her? That week, I gave up. The ice chewing drove me nuts? Fine. I bought earplugs. Started chewing gum myself when she crunched. Found other stuff to do. Weird thing? After I backed off completely, the crunching started bothering me less. Way less. She even chewed slower sometimes. Maybe she felt less watched? Less criticized?
Learned my lesson. Annoying habits? We all got ’em. Trying to “fix” someone else’s is like wrestling fog. Pointless and you just end up exhausted. Focus on your own side of the street first. Let the ice crunch.
