A little while back, the Mild Fiancée and I went to a friend's baby shower (as it turns out, we know quite a few people having babies soon). It was a good time overall, but the most interesting bit was talking to the other guests. I met a few folks that went to the same high school I did (though a different year), and some of the couple's relatives. And that, friends, is where the hilarity ensued.
I've known the mommy-to-be for a while, so I've met her parents before. It's not like they know every last detail of my life, but they recognize me and they always say hello when they see me. And vice versa, honestly. They're nice people, and I always chat with them for a bit. I wouldn't say I'm super close with them, though.
Still, they were there, so I said hello. More interestingly, I introduced them to the Mild Fiancée, and they were happy for us. I guess she must've made a good first impression with them (it certainly didn't hurt that the Mild Fiancée spoke some of their native language). We talked a little bit about the wedding planning and potential honeymoon plans, and they offered up advice here and there.
By that point, everyone was feeling a little more chummy, so there were a few more jokes and a lot more laughs. That's when they started in with the good stuff. At that point, the mom suggested to us that the key to a good marriage was a joint front. Well, at least in public. In private, the woman should call all the shots. She said it with a mischievous grin on her face, too, so I knew she was joking around. Even so, everyone had a good, hearty laugh about this. The Mild Fiancée laughed her head off, followed closely by the husband. I brought up the rear in third place, though I'd like to think I wasn't too far behind.
The hits weren't done yet, though. She also pointed out that it was good that we shared chores fairly evenly. She's seen her share of machismo in other couples, and it's not a good look. You want both people in the relationship to do some cooking, basically. It doesn't have to be a completely even, 50/50 split if you're both good with that, but both parties have to be willing to chip in at some point. You know, like in her household. Her husband cooked quite a bit, but she also cooked stuff now and again.
I should point out that at this junction, my friend (her daughter) walked by and caught the tail end of the conversation. Her reaction was priceless: "what household is this?!" I then learned, in between fits of laughter, that the mom has some very pretty aprons, but they are spotless. Yup, no machismo in that household. The dad does all the cooking, apparently.
That kicked off yet another bout of laughter from everyone involved, and I think I may have come in first that time. All in all, that whole conversation cracked me up. I learned later that the parents became quite fond of us, so it sounds like they had just as much fun as we did. Still, I learned a few valuable lessons for marital bliss that day: let the Mild Fiancée make all of the decisions in private, and do all of the cooking at home. Not bad for an afternoon.
I've known the mommy-to-be for a while, so I've met her parents before. It's not like they know every last detail of my life, but they recognize me and they always say hello when they see me. And vice versa, honestly. They're nice people, and I always chat with them for a bit. I wouldn't say I'm super close with them, though.
Still, they were there, so I said hello. More interestingly, I introduced them to the Mild Fiancée, and they were happy for us. I guess she must've made a good first impression with them (it certainly didn't hurt that the Mild Fiancée spoke some of their native language). We talked a little bit about the wedding planning and potential honeymoon plans, and they offered up advice here and there.
By that point, everyone was feeling a little more chummy, so there were a few more jokes and a lot more laughs. That's when they started in with the good stuff. At that point, the mom suggested to us that the key to a good marriage was a joint front. Well, at least in public. In private, the woman should call all the shots. She said it with a mischievous grin on her face, too, so I knew she was joking around. Even so, everyone had a good, hearty laugh about this. The Mild Fiancée laughed her head off, followed closely by the husband. I brought up the rear in third place, though I'd like to think I wasn't too far behind.
The hits weren't done yet, though. She also pointed out that it was good that we shared chores fairly evenly. She's seen her share of machismo in other couples, and it's not a good look. You want both people in the relationship to do some cooking, basically. It doesn't have to be a completely even, 50/50 split if you're both good with that, but both parties have to be willing to chip in at some point. You know, like in her household. Her husband cooked quite a bit, but she also cooked stuff now and again.
I should point out that at this junction, my friend (her daughter) walked by and caught the tail end of the conversation. Her reaction was priceless: "what household is this?!" I then learned, in between fits of laughter, that the mom has some very pretty aprons, but they are spotless. Yup, no machismo in that household. The dad does all the cooking, apparently.
That kicked off yet another bout of laughter from everyone involved, and I think I may have come in first that time. All in all, that whole conversation cracked me up. I learned later that the parents became quite fond of us, so it sounds like they had just as much fun as we did. Still, I learned a few valuable lessons for marital bliss that day: let the Mild Fiancée make all of the decisions in private, and do all of the cooking at home. Not bad for an afternoon.
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