I wanted someone who was tall, at least over 6 feet. I wanted someone who was chubby. I wanted a bald man with a goatee. I wanted a man who was smart, respectful and would make me laugh so hard I would pee my pants. The man could not be: a pilot, a cop, a doctor or a lawyer. It was a pretty simple list and was a good guide to help me weed out unsuitable prospects.
Mr. Misha fit the bill. After dating only 6 months, I must have fulfilled all of the items on his list too, because he proposed. I accepted and a few days later we went to see his mom. She seemed very happy about the engagement, but she sent Mr. Misha out to run an errand and sat me down for a chat.
In her Polish accent, she warned me:
"Hunee, I vant to make sure you know vaht you are gettink into. Pawvel is goot boy. He is sveet boy. He only have 3 tings wrong vit heem, but zay are zee whapperz."
I started to feel a little scared, but I didn't stop her.
"Numbear wan, he is alvays late. If you vant heem to be somevars at 3 o'clock, you must tell heem it es 1 o'clock. Nevere tell heem ze real time or you vill nevere gets zare on times."
I already knew that, he had been 4 hours late for our first date and 2 hours late for our second.
"Numbear, two. He ees not goot vis de monee. He is like hees fazer. He thinks dat when monee get into hees hand it burn and he must spend it. Ven you are mar-eed, you must put screws to heem and you are in charge of monee."
Not a problem, he had already told me about that. I would be in charge of the money.
"Und numbear three. He know how to clean, I teach heem. But he don't do. He is messy all time. I tell him he has to be clean now if he have wife, but you need to put screw to him. Make him clean, don't follow heem around and clean for heem. Put screw to heem, he know how to clean."
After she was sure that I understood the extent of Mr. Misha's 3 whoppers, she seemed a little surprised that I still was willing to marry her son. I told her that her son had disclosed his whoppers to me and I knew what I was getting into. I tried to tell her about unconditional love and how I agreed to marry her son "as is", but she would not hear it. She just kept repeating to me, "Put za screws to heem!"
Six months later, we were married. In the spirit of marital harmony, our second bedroom had become "The Man Cave". The rules of the man cave were:
Keep the door closed and if the junk or stench of the man cave ever started to waft out to the rest of the house, Mr.Misha would have to clean the man cave. The plan worked out pretty well.
The following spring, we decided to start a family and adopted our beautiful cocker spaniel, Mimi. She was so sweet and became very attached to me. When I would come home from work in the morning, she would snuggle up in bed with me and sleep quietly all day.
After a busy night of birthin' babies, I came home and went straight to bed. After a few hours of deep sleep, I woke up abruptly when I rolled over in bed and felt something hard poking me in my side. I reached down and felt it. I couldn't tell what it was. I opened my eyes and realized that I had rolled over on a half-eaten, petrified hamburger.
I was completely grossed out. I jumped out of bed, threw the burger away and stripped my bed. I threw the sheets in the washer, took a quick shower, brushed the dog's teeth and re-made the bed. After some deep breathing and relaxation techniques, I was able to fall back asleep.
Several hours later, I was awakened again when something hard jabbed me in my side. I instantly jumped out of bed and saw a partially eaten, fossilized burrito. I had no idea where the dog was finding these things. As I took the sheets to the washer for a second time that day, I noticed the door to "The Man Cave" was ajar. I called Mr.Misha at work and told him about Mimi's discoveries. Through his laughter, he agreed that The Man Cave guidelines had been breached and he would be spending the weekend cleaning.
After he was finished purging the man cave, I made Mr. Misha call his mother and let her know that I had, as she recommended, "Put zee screw to heem".