DADVENTUROUS IN REDBOOK…WHAT I REALLY SAID

Okay, it’s been a pretty heady week here in the ‘ol man cave. My piece in Redbook Magazine seems to have been well received, plus I got an awesome shout-out from Babble.com (which is always nice). The best thing about writing for Redbook is that you have an editor to review your work and make suggestions; the worst thing is that you have an editor to review your work and make suggestions.

While I’m pleased with the final edit that appeared in the magazine, I’m also quite fond of the original, uncensored version. Thus, for your reading pleasure, I present to you the full pre-edited version of “What He’s Really Thinking When Your Parents Come To Visit.”

“Hi Mom and Dad,” I nervously say as the in-laws drag their bags to the door. They’ve just arrived for their bi-annual inspection—I mean visit—and they’ll be here for the next seven long days. It’s not that I don’t like my wife’s parents, I actually enjoy them. It’s just the little quirks and idiosyncrasies that begin to add up as the week goes by. Things like insisting that I call them Mom and Dad. After 15 years of marriage it still makes me feel uncomfortable.  It’s the same feeling I had as a fifteen-year old boy working at the local supermarket. As part of my job I was required to recite the weekly special as the customers went through my line.

“Well, good morning Mrs. Piffleton,” I would cheerily say as my face began to turn red. “Did you notice our special price on MaxiTech Tampons today? If you’d like, Tommy can run and get you a box.” Awkward, right? Just like calling your in-laws Mom and Dad.

And things like the compliments that don’t really feel like compliments. “Oh look at you! Have you lost weight? You look so much better than last time,” exclaims Mom.

“So how is that job of yours?” asks Dad. “It’s a shame you still haven’t been promoted.”

And then there’s my wife. I believe it was Sun Tzu in The Art of War who said, “When momma ain’t happy, nobody happy.” The moment her parents step through the doorway she morphs from the calm, caring, and intelligent woman I married into a living caricature of that black and white theatre mask representing comedy and tragedy. She smiles and says something sweet to her parents, and then seamlessly turns and shoots me her time-perfected stink eye as if it’s my fault her parents are here.  The kids and I refer to this as her “Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hide-in-your-room-and-don’t-come-out-if-you-know-what’s-good-for-you” look.

When the week is finally over the tears flow freely—in my case, tears of joy and relief that our home will soon return to normal. After the luggage is loaded and the car begins to back away, my father-in-law stops and
reaches out his hand. With a mischievous look and a knowing chuckle he says, “Hang in there, sport. We’ll be back in six months.”

The (edited-but-still-awesome) version that appeared in Redbook can be viewed here.

Put it out with a perdurable

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