Posts Filed Under My Better Half

Well, They are Pretty Frightful

posted by Momo Fali on January 29, 2014

As my 15 year old daughter came out of the bathroom last night, her 11 year old brother was waiting outside the door. When she entered the hallway, he jumped toward her with a loud, “BOO!” and scared the daylights out of her. I laughed. Mostly because she does her fair share of frightening people around here. Paybacks, dear. Paybacks.

I saw everything from where I was in my bedroom so I gave my son a thumbs-up and said, “Good job! You got her, but you’d better be careful because Dad scared me in that exact same spot when I came out of the bathroom one time and I almost pushed him down the stairs.”

He stared at me. “Really?”

I said, “Yes, really. I didn’t do it on purpose. It was just a reflex.”

And, the hearing impaired kid who suffered with belchy acid reflux for years said, “Ohhhh, I get it! So you burped and it almost knocked him down the stairs!”

He Gets That From You

posted by Momo Fali on January 14, 2014

Last week my son got upset by something he had seen on television. He was sitting with both of us, completely supervised, but it was a movie scene which was a little too violent for his special needs brain to wrap itself around. Thanks a lot, Gollum.

My husband kept playing the stereotypical man card saying things like, “You’re fine! Go to bed.” I, on the other hand, hugged my boy, wiped his tears, and explained why we thought he’d be able to handle watching it (even though *cough* I knew he wouldn’t) and then we discussed, at length, the difference between traditional animation and computer animation.

At the end of the night, he put his 50 lb. body on my lap and said, “Dad says I got upset because I have too much of you in me, but I’m glad I do because you care.” I told him that he has plenty of his father in him and that Dad does care, but doesn’t know how to show it. Then I called a therapist for my husband. Not really, but I thought about it.

A couple of days later, my son and I were driving when we saw a stray dog. I stopped my car to help, but someone came out of a nearby apartment and took over the rescue operation. As we drove away, my son piped up from the back seat, “I’m kind of glad we didn’t have to help that dog.”

“Why, buddy?”

He replied, “Well, I can say this because it’s just you and me, right? I thought it was kind of ugly because it was one of those dogs whose tail stands up in the air and you can see its butthole.”

I laughed, “You sound like your dad!”

Excitedly, he said, “I do? I guess I do have him in me after all!”

I Think I Got a Whiff

posted by Momo Fali on December 15, 2013

I finally removed my last-of-the-summer toenail polish today. It’s almost winter and technically only four of the toes had polish left on them. It was brownish/purple polish so it pretty much just looked like I had four bruised toenails. Well, five because one actually is bruised from the errant placement of a kettlebell.

Logically, I should have pulled out the cotton balls last week before I walked around barefoot in front of some friends. I’m sure they would have appreciated it. They probably would have liked it if I had waxed my eyebrows too. I did shower, though. So I have that going for me. And they for them.

I waited until today to remove the polish because yesterday we went to the movies at this ridiculously redesigned theater where the seats recline. Like REALLY recline.

movie seat

AMC ain’t lyin’

A friend responded to this picture by saying she thinks we’re on our way to living Wall-E times, to which I say bring on the Big Gulps.

photo-1 (9)

These recliners have nothing to do with my toes. You’re welcome.

The drive to the movies was perilous, though you probably couldn’t see that from the way my husband was speeding down the freeway. He’ll tell you that he was driving under the speed limit and I will tell you not far enough under. It was foggy, rainy, icy, and part of the interstate was shut down due to an accident.

You know how your mother always wraps her fingers around the handle in the car where you’re supposed to hang your dry cleaning, even though no one gets their clothes dry cleaned any more? Here, please soak my shirt in chemicals so I can breathe it in and wear it against my skin. Mmm.

Anyway, your mother. You know how she holds onto that handle and tells you how to drive and says things like, “Please don’t kill us!” – or, is that just my mother? Well, it was also me yesterday before we got to the recliners which have nothing to do with my toes.

So, this morning before mass I was thinking about those roads and our three block drive to church. (That sound you just heard was the collective gasp of everyone who lives in NYC.) I thought about the chance that we could be in an accident and if I went to the hospital, my treatment would suffer because of the state of my toenails.

Don’t act like if you were an ER doctor and someone came in with pretty toenails that you wouldn’t treat them before the person with four, no five, bruised toenails. Because you totally would. If you say otherwise, you’re lying to yourself and should probably go to therapy.

I didn’t want my healthcare in the hands of a student who would probably give up on medicine and go work as a seamstress after treating me, because fabric swatches don’t have feet. I wanted to be seen by a good doctor. Like the time when my daughter was in the NICU and my husband told the nurse practitioner that he wanted a real nurse, not one who was just practicing.

Because I’m a catastrophist I removed the toenail polish and made it safely to church. Which, sadly, also means I didn’t get any morphine or anything. But, at least my toes look pretty.

Well, nine of them anyway.

He Moonlights as a Quick Thinker

posted by Momo Fali on December 10, 2013

My husband and I were recently watching a sit-com in which two of the main characters, who went through a few seasons of flirting and angst-filled relationship banter, finally started dating.

My husband said, “This show is ruined now. They always do this.” He held up his fingers and started counting. “They did it when Sam and Diane got together, they did it when Chandler and Monica got together, they did it with that couple from Moonshiners…”


This is a picture of my son, but this is pretty much the exact look I gave my husband.

But, before I could call him out on his Moonlighting mistake he said, “When those two rednecks got together it totally ruined the show.”