Posts Filed Under My Better Half

Day 3 – Marriage

posted by Momo Fali on November 3, 2013

We went to a wedding yesterday for our nephew Mike and his lovely bride, Lisa. This picture was shamelessly stolen from my sister-in-law. Thanks, Laura! Though next time, let’s make sure we watch for background light diffusion and foreground shadows. I know these technical things because I often take pictures of my dog with my phone. That pretty much makes me an expert.

mike and lisa

Mike was just a kid when his uncle and I started dating; back then, we still called him Michael. It was before middle school and braces and long before he joined the Marines and served in Afghanistan. I never anticipated that I’d be giving that kid unsolicited marital advice, but while he was busy growing up, I was busy getting relationship experience under my belt. It’s kind of my duty to tell him. It’s like I’m the Godfather. Except I’m a woman. And, not in the mafia. Here goes:

Dear Mike,

First, let me say that your brother gave an excellent speech last night: “People always say, ‘Don’t go to bed mad,’ but when the kids are crying and you’re tired, and fighting with your spouse, sometimes you just need to go to bed and things will be better in the morning.” I concur. Wholeheartedly. Just sleep.

There will be times when you are so angry – and sometimes it’s not even anger but just sheer monotony – and you think there’s NO WAY things can get better. You’ll think you can’t possibly spend another day with this person, let alone the rest of your life.

But, when you get through it you won’t believe how much stronger your relationship is. You will love your wife like never before and you won’t understand how you could have ever thought otherwise. Except for maybe when she tracks mud in across your just mopped floor. Or leaves the seat up in the middle of the night. But, let’s hope she won’t do that.

I know you realize this commitment is forever, so don’t ever say anything to her that you wouldn’t want said to you. Or, if she’s like me and holds a grudge for years, don’t say anything that she can throw in your face a decade from now. Women have good memories and we can use them for evil.

Kiss her every day. Tell her you love her. Rub her shoulders. Hold hands. Split the chores – and occasionally do hers as a surprise. That last bit of advice is really for your uncle. Hi honey! But, really. Housework is hot.

Oh, and one last thing; this marriage stuff is hard and you WILL screw it up. You both will. It is also the most beautiful, rewarding, comforting, secure partnership you will ever have, as long as you remember that you’re in this together. Forever.

You got this.


Aunt Diane

You Can’t Sweep the Floor With It

posted by Momo Fali on October 31, 2013

My son has suddenly decided that he wants to draw pictures all the time. Mostly, he’s been sketching pumpkins, bats, ghosts, and tombstones in preparation for Halloween. Last night he asked for more spooky ideas so I told him to try his hand at a witch.

He didn’t know where to start, so I quickly drew my interpretation. Don’t worry, I won’t quit my day job. After I saw how bad it looked, I told him to ask his dad to give it a try.

photo-1 (8)

Then our son asked us if all witches have penises.

The Best Medicine

posted by Momo Fali on September 4, 2013

I have been known, on occasion, to get a serious case of the giggles. My husband says it isn’t so much giggling as it is cackling, but I prefer to think of myself as demure. Mostly because I prefer lies.

A few nights ago, my daughter taped one of my laughing fits. Ironically, I was laughing this hard because she wasn’t laughing. I kept saying, “How can you not think this laughing is hilarious?” Because, clearly, it was. You can’t see me, but you can hear me. You can definitely hear me.

See? Demure.

Because I think a good chuckle is good for the soul I’m sharing some of my recent favorites from Twitter, and by recent I mean from the last year. I’m 42; February was recent. Enjoy.

I hope you cackled.

Last week, my husband dropped off some homegrown tomatoes at my mom’s house and she asked him to look at her dog’s belly, where she had felt something…odd. When he came home he said, “There’s something wrong with your mom’s dog. He has some weird growth on his stomach. I looked at it and it’s the strangest thing. It feels like a pencil.”

My mom, who is more attached to her dog than she is to her crossword puzzles – and that’s really saying something – called me the next day in tears. “Did you hear about Cappy? He has this hard growth and I don’t know what it is. I’m taking him to the vet tomorrow.”

Because it’s easy for me and my Zoloft to say, I reassured her. “Mom, don’t worry about it until you talk to the vet. It could just be a cyst. Blue had a whole bunch of them and they were nothing.” This didn’t do anything to alleviate her fears.

That evening I went to her house for dinner and offered to take a look at this thing. I was prepared to be grossed out because my sister had looked too, and she mentioned that it had an open sore.

But, it turned out that all the people who had already touched this thing were the ones who were grossed out, because that growth that felt like a pencil and had an opening – the growth that my mom, sister and husband had examined and touched? It was the dog’s penis.

And I will never let them live it down.