Dear Aunt Becky…
My best friend’s husband, who is a teacher, a married man, and a father of 2, was recently arrested for having “inappropriate” email contact with a 17-year-old girl. I think it’s horrific and told my best friend my honest feelings the day the story broke.
She is now mad at me because I’m not being supportive of her hubby and thinks I’m being judgmental. Keep in mind that she and he admitted the entire thing was true. I haven’t heard from her in a week and I’m not sure what to do. I realize now I should have kept my opinion to myself.
Any idea how to get the friendship back on track? Or should I just stay away?
Oh Gentle Reader, what a fucked up situation.
I always think about the parents of mass murderers, as they go on trial. The ones that weren’t shitty parents who chained their kids to a wall, you know? The parents who genuinely did a good job, but whose children were just born bad and ended up smashing heads in.
Then, when Judgment Day comes, you’ve got the whole world looking at you like “what did YOU DO to make such a monster?”
I think about that a lot. (I worked in juvenile prison for awhile)
In this case, no one wins. It’s terrible. I can’t imagine finding out that my husband–the father of my children–was carrying on inappropriately with a child. That’s got to be so twisted.
In this case, Gentle Reader, I think you need to put aside whatever feelings you have about your friend’s husband because what’s going with her isn’t about your feelings, and you need to apologize to her. She needs to feel less like the world is against her and more like someone is in her corner.
Her life has been turned upside down, and no matter how fucked up her husband is, this is about her. You don’t need to be supportive of him, you need to be supportive of her. Her head has got to be reeling right now. She’ll come to her senses.
If she doesn’t, well, I think it’s time to reevaluate your friendship.
What are your top ten favorite books to read to each of your kids, and why?
Now, if my children could handle reading books in a non-obsessive manner, I’d probably be able to answer this one, question, oh Internet, my Internet. But my children have sucked all joy out of each and every reading of Goodnight Moon and gnarfed the marrow from even such classics as Baby, Make Me Breakfast with their endless repetition.
I’m looking forward to getting past this particular stage with the small ones.
Benjamin loves the Captain Underpants, Diary of a Wimpy Kid, Magic Treehouse, and Harry Potter Books and has read (I think) most of them.
I’m partial to the Dr. Seuss books, but my children can never sit still long enough to enjoy them.
*gets up to run laps around the house*
*pets the dog*
*chases the cat*
I have no idea where they get their inability to sit still from. I blame The Daver.
Okay, so I know our moms grew up during the sexual revolution and were all bra burny and such but today she’s 55. AND…when it was all going on in the 60’s and 70’s, she partook from an arms length. Don’t get me wrong, she did her fair share of The Pot, but was always well groomed and well dressed.
TODAY, however, my moms uniform is a tight cotton tee, jeans (that may or may not be from the women’s section), walmart slip-on tennis shoes, and NO BRA! She needs a bra. How on earth do I tell my mother that her melons need a sling and her wardrobe sucks? I am honestly embarrassed to go anywhere that might be even the slightest bit chilly with her.
So your mom needs an over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder, huh? And a complete makeover, it sounds like, because she’s sort of given up on trying to be attractive.
Well, here’s what worked for my dad, who, I should add, did NOT need a bra.
My dad, God Love Him, is a sucker for a bargain, and not because he doesn’t have money. Like, you see something on sale, and my dad is ALL fucking about it even if he doesn’t REALLY need it or if it actually like, FIT him or anything. So he was drawn to Kohl’s like a moth to flame when he realized that the store was always on sale.
I realized that my father had gone from looking like a respectable pharmacist to like Bozo the Clown’s sidekick, Joe, The Gimp (don’t feel too bad, my dad can take it. He raised me to be Your Aunt Becky, after all). It was painful to be near him because his clothes were so bright, garish, and fucking ugly.
So my brother, who shops only at Brooks Brothers and Ralph Lauren and I formulated a plan and one holiday we implemented it: we staged an Intervention.
“Dad,” I said very, very seriously. “Aaron and I have to talk to you. You can never shop at Kohl’s again. In fact, we’re taking all of your horrible patterned shirts and we’re donating them to some golf league somewhere.”
“What?” He gasped.
“Yes.” My brother continued soberly. “Dad, you cannot continue on like this. No one wants to be seen next to you. We all pretend like we don’t know you when we go out together.”
“You aren’t serious!” My dad was shocked.
“WON’T SOMEONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!” I cried. “My children are afraid of your clothes! Look! Mimi just puked on herself after she saw your shirt!”
He sat there, thinking. Finally he spoke, “All right. If you guys say so.”
Dave, Aaron, Joy (my sister in law) and I all simultaneously said “YES!!” so loudly that Mimi jumped.
It’s actually worked. I mean, he still teases us about it. Like today when I asked them to watch the kids so we could go shopping for some clothes for Dave, he’s all “I hear Kohl’s has a great sale going on!” But he hasn’t been back.
So maybe that’s your best course of action. An INTERVENTION.
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