Funny Guy Friday... The Men's Retreat

     Funny Guy Friday is written by my husband Mark. So I married a funny guy...
     Welcome back everyone to the new and improved Funny Guy Friday.  I attempted a comeback a few months ago but then we entered into Lent... and with Lent came a self-imposed ban of Facebook. That ban shortened that comeback bid.  And to be honest, going forward, I do not think that I can crank out a new FGF every week... but I will write something whenever the mood strikes.
     This particular FGF is also a PSA to those that believe in the afterlife.  Let me explain.
     A few months ago, a friend, Kevin Wells, wrote a book outlining the traits of bishops and parish priests that are necessary in today's Catholic church.  He draws forth a blueprint for priestly holiness that can once again fill our Church with priests abounding with sincere, supernatural faith, on fire with God's love, and moved by the irresistible impulse to save souls, no matter the cost to themselves.
     If you are thinking that my writing has improved during my layoff... it hasn't.  I just copied that from the back of the book.
     Anyway, the book also leads the reader to examine his/her own faith. I did this myself and I mentioned it to Cheryl. Hearing this, Cheryl, like a shark smelling blood in the water, seized the opportunity to ask me if I would like to go on a men's retreat. With my newfound introspection, I said
     Sure... when?
     The first weekend in December.
     What... no way!  I am not taking one of the weekends before Christmas to go away without everyone! In retrospect, I probably didn't introspect as well as I should have because the weekends leading up to Christmas are a great time to go on a retreat.  Cheryl continued...
     That would be a great time.  Bill Quinn asked me if you would like to go and I told him that I would be away that weekend so you should be able to go. 
     NOOO! Don't commit me to retreats. Call him and tell him I cannot go.  You got me into this, you get me out.   
     You call him yourself and tell him. 
     Fine, I will.  At this point, I was pretty sure I was going on this retreat.  I don't know how she does it, but she does!
     Well it turns out that Bill had already paid for me to attend so any excuse I could come up with would have been just that... an excuse... an excuse that would now cost my friend some money.  But I wasn't done with Cheryl.  I have a tendency to complain when my wife... and friend... trick me into doing stuff.  Trick might be a little strong... manipulated might be better... but no matter how you describe what occurred, Cheryl was going to hear of my displeasure.
      I complained loudly to whomever would listen. Cheryl said she did not mind if I were loud because once the retreat started, I wouldn't be talking to anyone. You see this little retreat was a silent retreat. You have got to be kidding me! Who goes on a silent retreat? The only good thing was that I wouldn't have to share my feelings!
      I arrived Friday night and checked into my room... a nice room with a single bed and a bathroom.  I'm not going to lie...  it was kind of nice not having a roommate. I love my fellow man but I don't actually want to live with my fellow man. Dinner was a meet and greet with the silent part starting after dessert. I noticed something that struck me as a bit odd and encouraging all at the same time.  Bill was not there.  I thought to myself: If he fails to appear by the time I go to bed, I am sneaking out in the morning! 
      Fortunately, he posted right after the first talk.  I went to bed knowing I was in for the long haul. When I got to my room, I was shocked to find out it was only 9:30... and I had nothing to do... and nobody to talk to.  Actually, I had several people to talk to... but I wasn't allowed.  With nothing to do, I read my Bible.  I am trying to read the book of Maccabees during advent. A very difficult read... and as a result... I was asleep by 9:35.
      I woke bright eyed and bushy tailed at 5 a.m. and went to adoration.  Great start to a great day that included discussions about how men can lead their families, set examples for their friends and strengthen their faith.  It takes time to get to a more holy place and you need to commit. At one point, while pondering where I could carve out ten minutes of prayer time, I wondered if it were really necessary for me to go beyond level 1,805 in Candy Crush. I have to admit I am both proud and embarrassed by this achievement.  Anyway, it is safe to say that it will be easy to find the time to pray!
     Cheryl texted me on Saturday night to see how things were going.  I texted back that I was going to dump her and become a priest... not because I was all of the sudden more faithful... but because I kind of enjoyed the peace and quiet!
     So now to my PSA.  We had a two hour break Saturday after lunch and I was flipping through a book that was on display outside of the sanctuary. Kevin Wells, the aforementioned author, approached me and broke all silent retreat rules by telling me that he flipped through this very book during his adoration and landed on a section that discussed tales of people that were exposed to Purgatory. He suggested that I read it.
     Purgatory... I thought... was a waiting room where you sit, maybe read a magazine, check your watch, and hope that your number gets called.  It was not my number one choice but not a terrible plan B, I thought.  I think I lead a pretty good life and I hope that when the time comes, I will make it quickly into the Kingdom of Heaven. But if not, I am patient and I can wait my turn.
     Well it turns out that Purgatory is hell... pardon the pun. Not Hell with a capitol H but hell.  There appear to be at least three different levels, dependent upon the life you have lead on Earth. The levels include, but are not limited to, burning or freezing or losing fingers and appendages. Purgatory is timeless, so there is no "dying to get out of there" like we have here on Earth.  You are stuck there for as long as it takes... and it could take hundreds of years.  Imagine the incredible frustration of thinking that you are Heaven bound only to get stuck in the worst waiting room in the history of waiting rooms.
     I considered the three levels of Purgatory and tried to figure out where I fit in. I was discouraged by the fact that there were very holy people, nuns and priests, that were in Purgatory because they fell short in their vocations by... not being serious in their missions.  This frightened me because there have been times in my life that I may have made a teeny tiny little joke or two during Mass about the length of the Mass... the priest... the choir... the usher... the congregation... or on a good day... all of the above.  My saving grace is the fact that more must be expected from the priests and the nuns as opposed to the funny lawyer!
     Purgatory is not for the weak.  I commented to Kevin that it was like the old documentary Scared Straight, when hardened prisoners yelled and screamed at wayward teens in hopes that the teens would be scared into being good! It worked on the weak minded teens... and it worked on the weak minded lawyer.  People: Do what you must to make it into Heaven! It is not enough to just be a good person... you have to be a holy person.
    Work to be holy.
    As far as the retreat was concerned, it was outstanding.  I listened to the talks and realized that a man's goal is to make sure that each member of his family makes it into the Kingdom of Heaven. He can achieve these goals in many ways. Personally, I give myself mixed reviews.
    Here is the good:  Things in the Palumbo home are on the right track. My kids get to see a great example of faith every day. They are steered toward wholesomeness and are encouraged to pray and seek the Lord's guidance in all things. They are led by a person who is always seeking to become holy and constantly urging them to do the same.
     Here is the bad:  Apparently, Cheryl is the man of our house!  She is the person of faith that steers everyone towards wholesomeness and encourages us to pray and who really seeks to be holy!  My claim to fame is that I get out of her way and let her lead.  She tells me she doesn't want to be the leader... but I don't believe her.  I think she is just trying to trick me... er... manipulate me into something when she says that because... she tends to always be doing my job and appears to thrive in it. Perhaps, I will be taking a more active role in this leadership thing... I want to think that through before I let Cheryl know she is relieved of these duties.        
     If you get nothing out of this FGF... remember there really is no good plan B.  There is only Heaven.  Hell is... well... Hell and Purgatory is hell.
     I am happy to report that while it has only been a few days since the retreat, I am implementing some of the things that we discussed on retreat into my daily routine.  Each morning, I reach for my iPad and look up the day's gospel reading and spend a few minutes in prayer.  This routine is better than my pre-retreat routine.  I am pretty certain that when my judgment day does come, nobody is really going to care how good I was in Candy Crush.
     Finally, when you pray, please remember the souls in Purgatory.  They really need to make it out of that crappy waiting room!

The Ottaviani Response

This link contains a brief critical study of the revised mass of Paul VI.
It has been almost a year since I started attending the Traditional Latin Mass and I have been studying all I can about it and the liturgical changes made under Paul VI.  I wanted to save this important piece.  I will post my faith journey story in time, but I would humbly ask you all to go to the TLM and experience it for yourselves.  The "new mass" is not the same mass only in English. It simply isn't.

Declaration of Catholic Truths

Straightforward and necessary. Here's the link.

Funny Guy Friday... Follow the systems...

     Funny Guy Friday is written by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     If you have ever been to our home for any celebration, you would think that we have it all going on. Lovely home with lovely decorations. A lived-in neatness that is inviting to all comers.
     And we really do live in our house. We don’t take off our shoes upon entry, and we come in through any door we please.  For almost twenty-seven years we have lived in a house that most guests would not only consider inviting... but also neat and tidy.
     However, if you opened up a closet...and looked behind the curtain… you would think that we lived in a house of horrors. Closets full of coats, hats, shoes, cleats, bats, balls, golf clubs, last year’s science project, Christmas decorations, Christmas lights, unopened Christmas presents, the baby Jesus from our nativity set, a half burned yankee candle, half of the pieces from Monopoly… etc… etc! I think you get the picture.
     The way Cheryl always cleaned up is a little… how shall we say… roundabout…
     She would take everything out of Room One and only put back what was neat and clean and looked perfect in there. In the course of cleaning Room One, she would stop and do laundry. She would then get back to Room One and put the unwanted items from Room One into Room Two. In the course of returning things to Room One, she would stop to fix the leg on the wobbly table. Then she would move into Room Two… moving unwanted items from Room Two into Room Three but not before she changed the liners in our cabinets… and we don't even have liners in our cabinets.
     This zig-zagging would continue all the way up until she ran out of “the next room.” With nowhere else to go, the excess clutter made its way into our front hall closet or our pantry along with the regular closet/pantry clutter. Keep in mind that our front hall closet is about 2x4 and our pantry is about 3x6.
     Throughout our marriage, I have tried to make life easier by making suggestions and implementing systems and procedures. For instance, in order to keep the laundry room clean, we (and by we, I mean Cheryl) should separate the clothes and do one load of laundry a day. Wash… dry…  and PUT AWAY!  I capitalize “put away” because things never got put away in the drawers. It is like being on vacation and living out of your suitcase only you are not on vacation and you are living out of your laundry basket.
     My personal favorite system and procedure was the monthly cleaning of the pantry. Each month, so it seemed, I would drag all of the junk out of the pantry and throw away the out of date food, the butter container tops, last year’s Halloween candy (not sure how it got in there every month, but somehow it did), the broken plastic forks, the crab pot, the vacuum, the fondue machine, the chocolate fountain, coats, hats, shoes, cleats, bats, balls, golf clubs, the baby Jesus from our nativity set… etc… etc.  I think you get the picture.
     Each month, it seemed, I would warn that anyone who stashed something in the pantry that did not belong, would be shot on sight. I even posted signs. Seriously. I posted signs!
     I also wanted to rent a dumpster and throw all of our junk away. If we haven't used in it over three years, we throw it away. This is met with great resistance.
     No, we can't do that, what if we need it.
     Needless to say, my suggestions and my efforts were in vain.
     In order for a system to work, the system has to be followed. People have to buy in. There has to be cooperation. There were a myriad of reasons why my systems and procedures were abandoned by my family: time constraints, inconvenience, insubordination, and a general lack of love for me, to name just a few.
     Some time last month, Cheryl read some articles and watched some videos. She has announced her new plans to change our lives and keep our house tidy and organized. I have to admit that I have met these new plans with a little bit of skepticism. Systems only work if systems are followed.
 
     Cheryl, I have implemented systems in the past, you all have ignored my systems. Systems only work, if systems are followed.
     But honey, the Clutterbug gal labels people like insects. Ladybugs are people who are beautiful until they open their wings. Once they open their wings anything can fall out… Coats, hats, shoes, Jesus from the nativity set. Ladybugs like visual simplicity with all of their belongings put away in general organizing systems. Butterflies flitter from here to there and like their things out in the open where they can see them… but they also need big organizing systems or they will look like they never finish one job before starting another. Crickets and Bees like everything very specifically organized. I found out that I am a ladybug!
     You are a butterfly. I have told you for years that you zig zag.
     No I do not, I am a ladybug. That's what my new friend said. She knows me so well.
     Your new friend is a nut bug!
     Oh and get this… this other Frugal Cheap and Fun gal has an awesome laundry system. You sort it, you wash it, you fold it, and you put it away.
     That's my system! Whoa… wait... there are two new You Tube friends!
     Actually, there are three but you somehow have managed to conflate them into one… but their way is better… they sort it all differently... so their way is better.
     That explains why she sometimes looks Japanese and sometimes she doesn’t. So what do these chicks say about clutter?
     That you have to know which system works for you… and of course, if it isn't lovely or doesn’t spark joy, you throw it away.
     What if we haven't used it in three years?
     Is it lovely? Does it bring you joy?
     I don't know because... I haven't seen it in three years.

     The new plans also somehow involve making lists.
     I chuckle at the list-making process because in the time she takes to make one list I could have had two rooms cleaned and half a dumpster loaded.
     I have asked Cheryl why she thinks that all of the sudden, her clean pantry and new pantry procedures are better than my clean pantry and my procedures.
   
     Because everything has a place.
     But everything in my clean pantry had a place.
     Mine is better because it is! Your places were just stuff lined up. My places involve containers. Containers are the key. It's the C in the cleaning ABC’s… Containerize. Don't feel bad because your system didn't work. You tried.
     Whatever. My system was just as good and containerize isn't even a word!
 
     It has been two weeks and she is still buying containers. I think the butterfly lady must have stock in the container industry.
     The fact of the matter is that I don't really care what system we use. I just want someone to come over to our house… enter through whatever door they please… walk around the clutter-less rooms… open every closet… and then grab something from our tidy, containerized pantry. And I want to get credit for it all.
     You see... I am the reason that things work around here because I follow the new procedures!
     It is the F in the ABC’s of cleaning… spark followage!
     See… I can make up words just as well as Cheryl’s new besties!

Funny Guy Friday... Christmas in Texas

Funny Guy Friday is written by my husband, Mark. So... I married a funny guy...

    The first serious thought of returning to write Funny Guy Friday came at Christmas... Why? you ask? Let me tell you what I did on my Christmas vacation.  

    We are a family of Christmas traditions.

    Every year we do the same things, go to the same places, and see the same people. I love it, and I never want to change a thing.

    Until this year. Since this was Gracie's first year away from home, we decided to surprise her on Christmas Day and show up at my sister’s home in Houston. The newlyweds moved to Killeen, Texas last October. They live four hours from my sister in Houston. So Grace and Brian, along with all five of my sister’s kids and their kids, were going to be at my sister's for Christmas dinner. The only person that knew we were coming was my sister.

    This was a big move for me.

    On the way from the airport to their house, Noah asked if I thought Gracie was going to be surprised.  Do you really think that Grace suspects that I would ever leave town on Christmas Day?

    Then we discussed how we were going to spring our surprise.

    Cheryl suggested that we just barge in and start singing Christmas carols. The boys… and I mean all the boys including the dad boy, rejected this out of hand. It was three against one so, of course, we decided to... just barge in and start singing Christmas carols.  

     When we arrived, Cheryl, finding a locked front door, rang the doorbell and then inexplicably, ran and hid. She ding dong ditched, leaving the three no votes on the porch… ill-prepared to sing. Eventually, Cheryl reappeared and announced our presence. Grace was upstairs but was eventually was led out to see her mom with arms wide open… the visit was off to a great start.

     If you are Italian, you may have heard of the “Feast of the Seven Fishes.” Each course involves some variety of seafood. My sister went in a slightly different direction with the “Myriad of Five Meats.” There was turkey, ham, bacon, prime rib, and a roast. On a side note, don't tell my sister that she served prime rib, which is not the same as a roast… but she kept calling the prime rib a roast, much to the amusement of her daughters… who pointed out that the prime rib was probably a tad offended to be called a roast.  

    Anyway, dinner was delicious. We all had a wonderful time. The conversations were entertaining; the company was delightful. It was picture perfect, like a Norman Rockwell painting.

    Right up until the vomiting started.  

    What's that? Vomiting?

    Um... yes. Apparently, the twenty-four hour stomach flu started tearing through my sister's family about 5 minutes into our visit. Upon greeting my nephew and asking... Hey how’s it going?... I think he may have mentioned something about a queasy stomach. Yeah, that was just chit-chat formality stuff. Am I really required to listen to his response? Anyway… he is a doctor. He would have known if there had been cause for concern.

    The first to really fall was my niece’s husband. No problem, I thought. He is not blood-related, so he probably comes from a long line of people with weak immune systems. Palumbos are strong… like Bull!

     Next was his wife, my niece. She is blood-related… but from a different branch off the ol’ family tree. She's my sister's kid, but with no real direct line to me.

    By this time, my wise daughter Grace and her heedful husband Brian bolted to the nearest hotel to try to escape the outbreak. They urged us to join them, but we said we would take our chances. The rest of my sister's kids folded through the night. Weaklings who have forgotten that they have Palumbo blood in their veins.

    My kids are studs, they would never allow some silly flu to ruin this Christmas vacation. I don't get sick, so they don't get sick.

    Who am I kidding. Yes they do. While it’s true I hardly ever get sick, Cheryl and the kids have the immune systems of gnats. Sick gnats.

    I had actually made a note on my cell phone that Matthew would be the first to break ranks, followed by Cheryl, who would get it worse and have it longer than everyone else.
Matthew would be the first. Cheryl would be the worst.

    Why did I record this on my phone?… so I could say I knew this would happen. Just another way to let everyone know how smart I can be. What do you know?... I was right on both counts.

    Since we knew we had to high-tail it out of sick-bay central, we packed up as soon as we realized the body count was five and probably climbing, not counting my sister’s husband who had come down with the actual influenza through the night.

    Time to go. Four hours north to Gracie’s new home.  

    Matthew, of course, started yawning in technicolor before we could make our speedy getaway. Always pleasant traveling in the nice rental vehicle with towels and buckets at the ready. It was so bad that I actually felt guilty stopping at the Dairy Queen for a nice little strawberry sundae. As an aside, strawberry sundaes are just as good in Texas as they are in Maryland.

    Matthew had to take our word for it.

    Grace's husband Brian went down swinging that very night, despite his attempt to seek refuge in a hotel the night before, but he manned up and went to work the next day. Of course, I think that was more of an opportunity to get away from us as it was a reflection of his admirable work ethic.

    Cheryl was next. Naturally. 
If you’ve never had an illness around Cheryl, you wouldn't know that whatever you have, she has it ten times worse. So, for example, if I have a headache, she has a migraine. If I have a scratchy throat, she has strep. If everyone in the state of Texas has a twenty-four-hour bug, she has it for forty-eight hours. You guessed it… forty-eight hours of tummy issues for my darling wife.

    Besides predicting the general order of things, I also knew one more thing about my darling daughter. While Grace may not catch the bug, she will worry so much about catching the bug, that it would be better for everyone involved… if she just caught the damn bug! True to form, she kept “feeling weird” and loading up on vitamins and essential oils… the snake oil of our day. Fortunately, she never did catch the stomach flu, but I kind of wish she had. She would have saved herself a lot of anguish.

    Noah and I were the only real survivors. We were the only two able to make every meal, every game of bowling, and every shopping spree.

    Speaking of shopping sprees, did I mention that Chip and Joanna Gaines live an hour from Killeen? Evidently, you can't be one hour from the Magnolia empire and not pay a visit.

    Let me tell you, those folks are marketing geniuses. They can take a ten dollar item, slap a Magnolia sticker on it, and sell it for twenty. The place was packed and the lines were long. But I must admit, there was an air of festivity about the place. And the cupcakes? Well, you have to taste them to believe them.

     Matthew mentioned that the whole Magnolia experience kind of reminded him of that scene from Santa Clause 3 when Jack Frost had converted the North Pole into a theme park… Remember wives, the amount of money your husbands spend on you is directly related to how much they love you! Apparently, I love Cheryl quite a bit. And I would have loved her a lot more had she not purchased all sale items!

    All in all, aside from the upchucking, we had a great time on our Christmas vacation. At the end of the week, as we headed back to Houston, I mentioned that there is really only one thing that would ever bring me back to that part of Texas. The cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery, of course.

    Just kidding. I was talking about Grace, of course.

    Just not on Christmas Day. The thought of doing that again kind of makes me feel sick to my stomach.   

Funny Guy... Saturday?... Better late than never...

Funny Guy Friday is written by my husband Mark... So, I married a funny guy...

     For five straight years, every week, I wrote a little blurb about the goings on in the lives of the Palumbos. Topics would range from the time that I shot Noah in the rear end, how Matthew hated the Pope, or the hairbrush wars with Gracie.

     The way it worked was that something would strike me as funny, I would think about it for a day or two, spend a day or two writing a draft and then Cheryl would edit it. By editing it I mean she would make the necessary grammatical corrections and take out the really funny stuff that she thought might offend her family… and her family can be so sensitive.

     I had a formula that varied from time to time but basically, it included 80% truth, 15% exaggeration and 5% complete fabrication…. And 100% funny.  Would have been 105% funny if not for Cheryl’s family.

     Historically, no matter what havoc I may have created, I ended up being the hero. Cheryl, on the other hand, was blamed for all the bad stuff that happened.  Anyway, some weeks were easy, other weeks were a struggle… but I managed to churn something out week after week.

    During this Cal Ripken like stretch, people would approach me and ask if they were going to be in it and I would always tell them “sure… Do something stupid.” But mostly it, it was about my kids. They were all good sports and never asked me to keep their most embarrassing moments private.

     Then like Forrest Gump running cross-country, I just stopped. And that's all I have to say about that.

     Since I retired, hundreds of people… maybe not hundreds but many people… by many, I mean over ten… okay, it is three…  three people have asked that I resurrect Funny Guy Friday. Up until now, I have dismissed the urge to return. After all, Jordan returned and was a shell of himself, Ali returned and got beat up by Larry Holmes, Bjorn Borg returned and got his wooden racquet shoved up his rear by a bunch of teenage girls swinging titanium.

     So why will my return be any different?

     There are two possible reasons… First, I am a superior human with a superior intellect.

     Or it could be that I am not a superior human with a superior intellect at all but instead, just some guy who sits on his couch and thinks of stupid stuff and then types. Those other guys performed super-human physical feats... and just got old. This happens to all great athletes, with the possible exception of Tom Brady. Writing FGF is not exactly the most physical event in the world. In fact, at this very moment, I am eating a caramel cream and a bag of chips.  I somehow doubt that caramel creams and potato chips were on the Jordan, Ali, Borg diets.

    So without any further fanfare, I am announcing my return. Going to try and write something each week. It is going to be tougher to come up with stuff because Grace is married and living in Texas, Matthew is in college and Noah… well, Noah may just be goofy enough to carry me through most weeks.  

    Some of you may be asking yourself why. Why now?

    To be honest, I am feeling my mortality. My kids are getting older… my daughter is married and someday will have my grandkids. I may not be around to tell them how nutty Grandma Weezer or Geezer (I just made that up but I think it is a name that might stick) is and how I manage to solve all of her problems. I also need to let my grandkids know how cool I am/was… and if I don't tell them, who will.  And I will do so with a completely accurate depiction... with only 15% exaggeration and 5% total fabrication.

    Just a quick note to start the comeback… I hope everyone had a great Valentine's Day. I remembered it was Valentine's Day when I was driving to court and one of the attorneys in my office called me and said Happy Valentine's Day!

     The typical response is Happy Valentine's Day to you too.  My response was OH CRUD! (okay… it could have been stronger than Crud) I completely forgot and did not say anything to Cheryl this morning.

     Then it dawned on me that Cheryl didn't say anything to me either so if I can get off the phone and call her before she calls me, I can beat her to the punch and feign irritation at the fact that she forgot to wish me a Happy Valentine's Day. The best defense is a good offense.

     Hey Weezie, you forgot to wish me a Happy Valentine's Day this morning, what's up with that?  

     I know, you ran out to your car and I thought you were coming back into the house. I waited but you never came.

     Okay, for the record, I called you first… Because I remembered… before you… I win Valentine’s Day.

     Whatever. I have a surprise for you when you get home.

     Oh yeah, well I got all kinds of surprises for you too!  I didn't really. In fact, I had nothing because I had forgotten.

     I felt kind of bad and it didn't get any better when all of the secretaries in our office kept getting roses from their sweethearts. I’m better than those guys, most of whom I have never met, and they remembered.

    I mentioned to the ladies in the office that I may have… kind of… maybe forgot it was Valentine's Day. One of them said it was because you don't have to remember, you're happily married so every day is Valentine's Day!

   Finally, someone who gets it! My wife is so lucky to have me!

   I decided that I was going to use this line but quickly realized by the reaction of every girl in my office that she was not being serious and no woman would ever buy that nonsense. Things were so bad that one of the gals offered me one dozen of her TWO dozen roses that she received from her hubby.

   You got two!  Did he do something wrong or something?

    I couldn't accept her generous offer to re-gift her flowers but I still needed to get Cheryl something. Then it dawned on me… we went out to dinner about a month ago and Cheryl ordered a drink that she loved. I took a picture of the table and had the ingredients somewhere on my phone with the two specific types of alcohol used in the drink. I went to buy them on a previous occasion…but they were both too expensive... so I didn't.  I substituted cheaper stuff but the drink wasn't the same. I love my wife but I have my financial limits.

    Well, I rationalized my overspending on alcohol by noting it is Valentine's Day… And I do love her… And I have no other ideas. It was decided, I was willing to break the bank. Bonus… It looks like I actually noticed something insignificant... like a drink she liked… and then went to the trouble of remembering the ingredients.

    I truly am the best husband ever!

    When I got home, the house smelled delicious. Cheryl and Noah were cooking an Italian meal and the theme from the Godfather was playing on the radio, or google or Alexis or whatever. My favorite wine was chilling and a fresh baguette of Italian bread sat on the table. Things were looking good.

    Cheryl handed me a scroll with the best lines from my favorite movie, The Godfather. She recorded both Godfather I and Godfather II and we were going to watch the movies that night. This was huge because she hates these movies. She claims they are the most violent movies ever. I counter that the Home Alone movies are more violent and Michael Corleone is simply misunderstood. Anyway…

   She planned this fun Godfather themed night with all my favorite things. I anticipated Noah getting whacked at some point in the evening but luckily, that never happened.

   Two things went through my mind. First, I am going to have a great night! Second, Cheryl is going to be happy that I bought her the booze.

   We ate our Caesar salad, our bread, and our ravioli. We drank the whole bottle of wine, which is unusual for us. After dinner, she broke out tiramisu, a cannoli and almond cookies for dessert.

    At this point, Noah made her favorite drink from the Ginger liquor and whiskey that I bought and then we retired to the living room with every intention of watching the movies. Then a funny thing happened… We took our respective spots on the couch and promptly fell asleep.

    This happens pretty much every night at our house. I fall asleep next to my lovely wife, my most favorite thing in the world. So, as it turns out, this year's Valentine's Day was not unlike most nights at our house… except we may have had more to drink than we usually do. And my one secretary was correct…

    I am happily married so every day is Valentine’s Day!

    My wife is so lucky to have me!