Entries in Marriage (13)


A Mrs. G. Social Inquiry...Let's Discuss

Photo by Star Foreman


Hi, Heather,
I found this article today, and thought it would be an interesting topic of conversation at the Manor:
Full disclosure, the woman is a colleague of mine, I've known her for a couple of years in that capacity. I did not know anything about her personal life.  She's a wonderful colleague, and I think she and her husband are brave to "out" themselves like this. I'm also proud that our common employer is supportive.
Plus, I think that their relationship as depicted in the article, is really sweet!
I think the Derf community could have a very rich and interesting discussion about this.
Mrs. G. is not allowed to reprint the article here, so you really do have to go and read it. She's been thinking about how she would deal with this for the last hour and she's curious what all of you have to say. She knows this group can be honest without insulting. Let's talk!




the answer would be a gentle no, because mrs. g. does understand his appeal

Mrs. G. received four emails (Portland, Tulsa, Charlottesville and Knoxville) from Derfs over the weekend letting her know that they had made Mr. G's pasta sauce and it was indeed as delicious as she said. One sweetheart sent a photo of her bubbling sauce right after, as she said, the "chicken livers had landed." Mr. G. was flattered.

But Mrs. G. received a fifth email today that we are going to have to discuss because, well, because Mrs. G. thinks you will understand why.

Dear Mrs. G,

I just wanted to let you know how lucky you are to have a husband like Mr. G! I made his sauce on Saturday night and it was so good that I can't help but throw out the following proposal. You have mentioned that Mr. G. hasn't cleaned a bathroom in decades and doesn't really do household chores of any kind. I love cleaning bathrooms and I would be willing to assume all household chores if he would cook for me nightly. I know this would mean he has to move to the Northeast, but do you think you could spare him for this fellow Derf? Maybe even just every month? My love for Mr. G. is purely platonic and culinary inspired as I am in a a very serious imaginary relationship with Damian Lewis.

I look foward to hearing from you :) :) :)



Dear V,

I appreciate your straight-forward, forthright approach to possibly acquiring my husband. I'm going to have to decline your offer because I really like him, and, damn woman, I gave you the coveted recipe. Have Damian Lewis make it for you. I kid, because I think you are sweet even though you want to exploit my man in the kitchen. I'm not going to share this exchange with him because, though he loves me, the allure of no chores might cause him to slip out in the night with his chicken livers and never look back. Like I'm going to let that happen -- just to be safe I have tied a bell to our bedroom doorknob in case he gets any ideas. 

All My Best-ish,

Mrs. G.


The Spanish Class, Part Dos

Tonight's Fun Facts On The Unfolding Aventura

1) Mr. and Mrs. G. only arrived thirty-five minutes early for class.

1) Mr. and Mrs. G. managed to share one book, though in a moment of frustration, Mrs. G. defaced one page with a blue Sharpie.

3) At one point Mr. G. turned to Mrs. G. and said of the teacher, "It's like she's not even speaking English."

4) The teacher asked each student to take a minute and write a sentence describing something another student was wearing and Mr. G. asked Mrs. G, "What color is your brassiere?"

5) When they were leaving, Mrs. G. told the teacher, "Adios." Mr. G. followed up with "Buenas Nachos!" Mrs. G. told him in the car if he ever said "Buenas Nachos" again, heads were going to roll. He snorted.

In case you hadn't noticed, this is marriage.

Until next week, despedida. 


The Spanish Class

To assist in fulfilling their dream of retiring to Mexico, Mr. and Mrs. G. signed up for a Spanish class at a local college. If their dream doesn't come to pass, they will at least have expanded their horizons and maybe regenerated some of the brain cells they wiped out in the late eighties, or divorced, depending on which way the viento blows.

Their class started Monday night and while Mrs. G. has tried to broadcast nothing but love and esteem for Mr. G. on this blog, she is going to tell you something true: he believes he is a deft virtuoso on all several subjects. No experience necessary. None. Mrs. G. isn't calling her True Love a know-it-all but rather highlighting his confidence, his innate self-proclaimed gift of knowledge regarding everything in the world.

Problems On The First Night Of Class

1) Mr. and Mrs. G. are ninety minutes early. Mrs. G. isn't pointing any fingers at who has a compulsive need to be early early but it's not her. 

2) Mr. and Mrs. G. have to stop by the bookstore to buy Mr. G. a copy of Tu Mundo (Mrs. G. bought her copy on Ebay for sixty bucks) and the line at the bookstore is long. Mrs. G. isn't pointing any fingers at who is dramatically averse to lines of any length but it's not her. Mr. G. makes a minimum of six audible, "expressive" complaints about the quality and efficiency of the bookstore. He claims they were in line for ninety minutes but it was more like twenty-five.

3) They are charging $125 for the paperback, 1/2 inch thick book. "Pfffffffffuck that," mutters Mr. G. as he walks out of the bookstore.

4) Mr. and Mrs. G. will now have to share a book.

5) While they are having coffee waiting for class to begin, Mr. G. shares his belief that Italian (of which he speaks  piccolo poco) and Spanish are basically the same language. Mrs. G. says she is paying $160 for ten weeks to learn Spanish. Mr. G. continues to speak Italish until it is time to head to class.

6) Mr. G. believes he is capable of teaching any subject without regard for what the professor actually says is so. Mr. G. once said, "You don't really need to know math to learn physics." Study sessions at home are going to present some problems.

7) Mr. G's joking repetition of "Me llamo Nick. Me llamo Nick. Me llamo Nick" while waiting for the professor to show up wears thin. The smartly dressed woman with the beautiful black patent leather handbag sitting in front of them gives him a subtle side eye.

It is at this point Mrs. G. fears Mr. G. may get up and attempt to teach the class. It is also at this point Mrs. G. considers no longer sitting beside him.

8) Dear Lord, please don't let him raise his hand and complain about the rip-off price of the textbook.

9) He raises his hand and complains about the rip-off price of the textbook.

10) His frequent whispers of what the professor should actually be teaching are distracting...to everyone.

11) The smartly dressed woman with the beautiful black patent leather purse moves four seats to her right during the class break.

Mrs. G. kids but only pico. She is far from perfecto but she does not entertain the notion that she can teach a workshop on String Theory simply because she owns a ball of string. But two decades in, what are you gonna do?

In the meantime, pray for Mr. and Mrs. G. Pray for the Spanish language. Pray for Mexico.

e speriamo che vissero felici e contenti 


There Ain't No Pause Button in the Throes of Hankering, Part Two.


Mr. and Mrs. G. went on several dinner and movie dates before Mrs. G. invited him to her shabby studio apartment for a home cooked meal. Looking back, Mrs. G. realizes how crucial those initial nights on the town were for igniting and sustaining the spark necessary to start a five-alarm fire.

Click to read more ...


There Ain't No Pause Button in the Throes of Hankering, Part One


When Mrs. G. met Mr. G, she was not looking to fall in love, marry and get pregnant in fifteen months...

Click to read more ...


Sometimes You Just Have to Laugh

After reading some of the comments in the confessional, Mrs. G. felt she should post this to lighten things up. As you can see, confessors, you are not alone.



All's Well That Ends Well or The 2011 Lowes Peace Summit

Mutual absolution granted in aisle one at Lowes.