If You Have Time to Shit, You've Got Time to Text

This is going to be quick, but not painless. For some of you, this is going to hurt.

A girlfriend of mine recently told me about a man with whom she'd had a new sexual encounter. It wasn't exactly mind-blowing love making, but there was some toe-curling involved. So, like us ladies do, she decided on the spot whether she'd let this man come back for more. She figured this guy was definitely worth enjoying "Round 2."

What she didn't consider, however, was that he was also making his decision whether to become a frequent flyer or stay grounded. Let's just say, he decided to give up his seats on Southwest and hopped on a Greyhound...going in the opposite direction!

As it goes, my girlfriend enjoyed giving it up for whatever this man was putting down! And, in typical fashion, she called him the next day. They didn't have any stellar conversation or anything, but the call wrapped up like this:

Him: "Well, I gotta go, but I'll holla atcha tomorrow."
Her: "Okay, then. I get off at 3 o'clock, so anytime after that's cool."
Him: "Aight then. I'ma call you."
Her: "Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
Him: "Peace."
Her: "Bye."

And when the next day comes, my girlfriend's face is lit up like Christmas because she's looking forward to this man's call and setting up that second round. Remember, his bus has already make a left turn at Albuquerque (said in my best Bugs Bunny voice). But he doesn't call. In fact, three whole, long, embarrassing days go by before this man bothers to call. By now, my friend is furious. I mean, she's Tina Turner-whooping-Ike's-ass-in-the-limo mad! She thought when he said he'd call tomorrow, that she should be getting a call the next day, or at least a text message.

So, when actually manages to eek out a few minutes in his day they talk about it. No doubt, my man is feeling trapped like he's on the ropes in the corner under a barrage of upper cuts and left hooks from a 21-year-old Mike Tyson. But he apologizes for not calling when he said he would. Then he makes the same promise again: "I'll call you tomorrow." And my friend was confident like a gambling-addicted referee who'd just "fixed" the Eastern Conference Finals that he was actually going to call tomorrow. After all, they'd just talked about this issue.

And when the next day comes, he doesn't call or text.

Meanwhile, when he finally calls she answers the phone and makes up some excuse to get off the line, inserting the parting disclosure that she'll "call tomorrow." And of course, she doesn't. She waits the usual three days and then calls him. But she's shocked at his assessment that she's "playing games."

She asks me in a rhetorically indignant tone, "Mish, can you believe he said I'm playing games?"

Then I pissed her off and said, "You were."

Well, she couldn't believe her ears. But truth is truth. She was playing a game. His pattern of not calling for three days might have just been his style, but she was definitely playing games because it's easy to see that she values a person's word and expects a call the next day. Moreover, my friend couldn't figure out why this man's refusal to call or even text her bothered her so damned much.

So, I offered to package this up for her nicely and put a lil' bow on it. I asked my friend if she thought this man had taken a dump in the past three days. You know, did she think he'd had a bowel movement.

Perplexed and with much hesitation in her voice, she said, "Uh, yeah."

And I answered: "If he's got time to sh--, then he's got time to text. You're angry because he made time to use your body, get a quick nut and bounce, but he can't make time to even send a text. And what's more insulting is that in the course of 72 hours he chose to do everything else in the world EXCEPT for calling YOU."

At some point, she tried to dismiss her own feelings mumbling that this shouldn't be such a big deal. But the truth is, it's a big damned deal. What it all boils down to is a lack of respect. She gave up her most precious gift to him. And he couldn't give up 30 raggedy-ass seconds to shoot out a quick text as he was shooting out turds on the throne .

She needs to flush this man, and her expectations that he'll ever want her like she wants him, down the drain.

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Go Ahead and Be a Big Old Baby

Babies want what they want when they want it. Period. There's no more to pontificate. There's no "but" behind that statement.


When babies are hungry, they cry. When they're sleepy, they cry. When they need to burp, poop, drink, be entertained or even repositioned, you guessed it, they cry. And they won't stop crying, screaming, coughing and wheezing until someone gives them what they want. 


In case you missed the boat here, what I'm saying is babies place themselves and their needs FIRST. It's called survival. Happiness is but a gratuitous side effect of getting what they need. But make no mistake about it, happiness isn't even the goal for babies. The goal, above all else, is to survive. And babies can only accomplish this by putting their tiny selves and their big needs FIRST. 


Is this selfish? 


Of course, it is. To a baby, arguably the most nonthreatening of any of God's creations, it's all about "self." AND...there's nothing wrong with that. Let me say this again...you read it slowly:


THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT.


The baby puts herself above your need to clean the kitchen, to give junior that two-weeks-overdue haircut, to get dressed for your sister's wedding, to change the oil in the car, to mow the lawn, to cook dinner, yada, yada, yada... In fact, the baby isn't even concerned with whether YOU need to eat, sleep or take a dump. They want what they want when they want it. Period. End of paragraph.


And somewhere along the way, we lose this mentality. Mom's rhetoric now includes crazy talk of sharing your things with your sibling. ("Huh? Wasn't it all about ME just a minute ago? Now, I gotta share something?!?!") Now you have to help your brother with his chores. Or you have to share your pudding cup with your sister. And we're told to do this because "good" people do this. 


But somewhere in the space-time continuum, statements like this were twisted in our minds to mean we would be better human beings if we put our needs and desires and wants to the side to help someone else. And eventually, the word "selfish" morphed into something negative. You aren't supposed to enjoy your entire pudding cup just because you had the foresight to pack your lunch the night before school. Nooooo. You have to split your goodies with your idiot brother because he wasn't thinking...and, oh yeah, it's going to make you a better human being. 


He wins half a pudding cup and you lose. 


So, what's the problem? 


The problem is you're damned near 40 years old and it's still happening. Only now, you're in a romantic relationship where you're always giving away pieces of yourself like half a damned pudding cup. Your partner wins while you lose yourself. 


Your girlfriend doesn't clean the dishes after you've cooked...because she knows you will. And you do every time. Your boyfriend skips foreplay and gets right to the hot spot...because he knows you'll let him. And you do every time. Your wife always manages to go shopping for new dresses and gets her nails done the first of every month...because you never ask to have your needs met. And you never do. Your man stays out late with the homies...because he knows you'll never complain. And you never do.


And then you ask, "Why can't I ever win? What do I have to do to be in first place?" The answer is simple.


If you want to be in first place, then place yourself first!


I guess I'm saying, go ahead and be a "baby." Be a big old baby!!! Be selfish. Learn to get your needs met first. Moreover, don't complain when you see other people doing this very thing. Don't be mad because your girl got her nails "did" and you've been walking around like a wolf-man needing your fade tightened up for two weeks! That's not her fault. Put YOUR needs first in YOUR life. She did. 

Let me break it down this way: Even the airlines know you need to take care of yourself first. They tell you this every time you fly. When the oxygen masks drop down in cases of low cabin pressure, they tell us to apply our own masks first and THEN apply someone else's. What they're saying is, "How are you going to help me with my mask if yo' ass is passed out?"


Don't blame other people because they're "looking out for #1." It's what we were born doing. Take care of yourself. There's nothing wrong with that. Don't allow your happiness to be dependent on the happiness of others. And if you're truly blessed, you'll find yourself a partner-lover-friend who is caring and generous enough to be as concerned about your needs as they are for their own. The key here is finding the balance. 


Besides, if you're busy looking at what others are doing, then that means you're not exactly looking out for number one...are you?

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Sometimes You Don't Deserve Better

When it comes to relationships, which statement is more applicable:

You deserve better.

OR

You deserve what you get.

Take a minute. Don't worry...I'll wait.

Everyday, some scorned woman somewhere in America is yelling at her heartbroken (and now deaf) girlfriend, "Child, you deserve better! Girl, you need to drop that zero and get you a hero!!!" Us ladies are super quick to support each other. And we don't care what the circumstances are. Men are wrong. They all must die. (No, really. Women do talk like that!)

But before you finish reading this, you may just begin to entertain the serious notion that sometimes, we deserve what we get.

Just this past weekend, a male friend stopped by on his way home. Mind you, "home" for him is a house owned by his girlfriend. His name isn't on the mortgage or the tax bill, but I'll be fair and tell you that he contributes by paying a portion of the bills and mowing the lawn. He maintains the vehicles and washes them every weekend. Sometimes he cooks dinner.

Did I mention he cheats? Regularly.

I've known him for a few years now, so I was comfortable asking him: "Why do you stay with her?"

My buddy hemmed and hawed and even complimented my lips. (He has trouble taming his inner dog. Not to mention, it was a diversionary tactic that would have only worked on a weaker woman.) Then he began waxing poetic and rambling on about how every relationship has its ups and downs, trials and tribulations, blah, blah, blah.

I looked at him as he diverted his gaze to the television, still mumbling about the troubles of lovers. (As I dozed off, I was awakened by the automatic motion of my neck snapping my head back into place as it began to roll backwards!) I had to cut through the bull and get to the point. I interrupted, "I know all that. But why are you still with her if you're always cheating on her???"

Uh oh. I'd pushed too hard, and my friend got downright indignant with me. "I am NOT sleeping alone. I'll be damned if I don't have someone next to me at night. I need a warm body by my side. Uh-uh. I'm not sleeping alone!" he said in a pained voice, the words spilling out of his mouth like a baby dribbling strained peas. It was a doggone mess!

And what's worse is his girlfriend KNOWS he sleeps around. She hasn't put him out of her home in seven years. She still lets him crawl back into bed when he gets home at some disrespectful hour of the morning, smelling of cigarettes and perfume. Even the possums and raccoons have retired from their nightly dumpster diving before he gets in!

So, I'll ask you again: Does she deserve better or does she deserve what she gets?

I've got another dear friend who I have known for at least 15 years now. He's a great guy and an awesome dad. And his very young wife of more than 10 years one day decides she needs to get out on her own and see the world. But this isn't the point. The point is my friend decided to spend time with another lady during his separation. That's his prerogative -- don't judge him.

My friend was fair when he told his new "girlfriend" that if his wife came back to him and the children today, he'd take her back without blinking. And while YOU may not agree with that statement, it's HIS truth. The problem here is his girlfriend didn't want to hear it that way.

Then one day, his wife came back.

And true to his word, he chose to give his marriage a shot at success. But this girl got pissed because she'd invested a whopping 30 days into the "relationship."

Tell me, does she deserve better or did she get what she deserves?

And before you jump up and instinctively say she deserves better, let me throw this at you: Is she READY to receive "better?" This woman willingly entered into a relationship with a man who was 1) married and 2) told her he would leave her if his wife came back. Now, tell me that's not a set-up for an epic FAILURE! But she willingly involved herself with him anyway. Right now, she's making foolhardy decisions. She's not READY to receive a better man. At the moment, she's willing to take ANY man.

So before you go crying to God about how you want a better mate; before you surround yourself with your "peanut gallery" of buddies who tell you you're right no matter how WRONG you are; before you get self-righteous and proclaim all men are dogs and all women are idiots ANSWER this question:

Do I deserve better or am I getting what I deserve?

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

My Punany Is Worth More than Barbie's

Barbie Dolls get more respect than some women I know. And I'm not being harsh -- I used to be one of them.

First, let's establish a visual: It's Christmas morning. A once-brand new Barbie doll's immaculate face is now forever branded with Samoan tribal markings in red and blue ink, partially accented with heavy black Sharpie marker. So, it's permanent and it's not coming off. Her hair is cut so short, she makes Demi Moore's G.I. Jane look like a spokeswoman for Herbal Essences shampoo. A nippleless, plastic boob is exposed. Oh, and her shoes are missing, but that's okay because so is one of her feet.

And all this damage was done before the Christmas ham hit the table for dinner!

Of course, mom and dad are ticked, and the Christmas spirit has "left the building" because little Carly has destroyed -- no, mutilated -- a $50 doll. (Her destructive younger brother Archie is responsible for amputating Barbie's foot.) Exasperated, mom and dad snatch little Carly's Barbie faster than she can utter "OMG!" Name-brand Barbie is later replaced with her "dollar store diva" cousin because Carly and Archie cannot be trusted to handle the real thing.

Then mom and dad lay this disclaimer on lilttle Carly (and Archie, too): "Until you learn to respect this gift and its value, you will no longer be allowed to have it. You can't have Barbie back until you show us you can respect the dollar store toy."

Here it comes y'all...

So, ladies, why do we let men who disrespect the punany continue to play with the punany??? Apparently, we've got more respect for a damned doll!!!

We demand more respect of our children for their toys than we do for our own bodies. Think about it. If the kids jack it up, we're quick to snatch it up (all the while mumbling something about money and trees). And don't go blaming the men. Ladies, ask yourselves this: If someone was willingly and freely giving you what you wanted and were making no demands in return, wouldn't you snatch it, too? That's how some men view some of us ladies and our precious punany.

And every day that we do this, every night we let him creep back to the crib, every time we allow the disrespect, we look a little more like that Barbie doll. Like her hair and shoes and missing foot, we give up a piece of ourselves every time we lay with men who don't respect us.

Like the doll's exposed plastic boob, we expose our souls to corruption. In fact, every time we lay with someone sexually, we create a soul tie. If you're a spiritual person, talk to your priest, pastor, bishop or minister about this. But know one thing: making that soul tie is what makes it so damned difficult to just walk away from men we fool ourselves into thinking are just "friends with benefits." We should be calling them "friends with detriments."

Ladies, you must understand you are not merely the sum of your parts. And you're damned sure not just a source of punany. You are more than the sum of your parts. It's not just about your physical body -- your face, your hips, your breasts, the punany. You've got a soul and a mind that need as much respect as the rest of you. What I realized is a man doesn't get my punany without getting everything else. It's a package deal. This is why when men "take" the punany, it feels like a piece of your mind and soul have been taken, too. Taken -- for granted.

It's a shame -- We allow men to enter our bodies and even after they've gone, damage is still being done to our minds and souls.

I have a very close girlfriend who called me one evening upset about a man she'd slept with who wouldn't call or text her back for days at a time, even though he often told her he would. She said he was, "Actin' crackish."

I paused for a moment, gazing at my own dimly lit front door from my kitchen, and then I asked her, "If you wouldn't let a crackhead into your house, why would you let a 'crackish' man into your body?"

She answered in a way I could understand, but didn't expect. She began talking to me as if I was Laurence Fishburne's Morpheus in The Matrix: "I don't want the red pill, Mish. I want to stay asleep in the matrix. I want to chew my steak and I don't want to eat slop. I don't want to see holes in my arms and down my back. I want to wear modern day clothes and not rags. I want to be in blissful sleep in the matrix and I don't want to know about this stuff anymore."

It looks like Barbie just lost her other foot.

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

No More Ms. Save-A-Brotha

Admit it. You do it. Once in a blue moon, you scroll through your cell phone and start deleting names from your phonebook. Delete. Delete. Delete!

Right when Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives goes into commercial break, you get bored, and start scrolling through dozens of names, removing folks from your phone -- and your life -- because you haven't talked to them for 8 months anyway. It's not rude. It's honest.

Sometimes, you must survey your territory and decide who and what you need inside your territory. And in life, some people just aren't meant to be around until death do you part.

So, after my man started ignoring me and giving the world his best, and after I realized it wasn't my place to rescue him from his circumstance, I started to wonder how I'd even gotten into this emotional mess anyway. How is it that I ended up pursuing and clinging to a man who, despite telling me he hoped I was "the one," was basically showing me his ass?

Then I started to survey my life just like my cell phone. Was my spiritual/church life in order? Was my home in order? How about my work life? My girlfriends, too -- were they all still drama free? Check. Check. Checkity-check. Check!

Then I surveyed the men in my life, some of whom are reading this very Relationship Revelation right now.

What I found shocked me! Every man that I am in regular contact with is in a state of drama/trauma to some degree in their romantic relationships. Every single one of them. I'm talking about:

Divorces
Custody battles
Legal separations
Unexpectedly-my-wife-walked-out-on-me-and-the-kids separations
Teenagers diagnosed with HIV
Sexless marriages
Divorces on hold because money's tight
No money
No job and no money
Too many women to handle
Crazy live-in women
Living with the ex-wife because his money's tight
Ex-wives taking child support payments when DADDY HAS THE KIDS!!!
(There's more, but I'm tired of typing this mess!)

And I was in the thick of it with all of them. One would call, and I would listen. The next would call and I'd be right there absorbing the drama and offering whatever advice I could. The next one would drop by my place and walk my dog with me just to escape their issues. These men were all sinking in their circumstances and I welcomed them all like the Statue of Liberty beckoning for them to give me "your tired, your poor, your huddled masses."

Suddenly, as if a young Laurence (then Larry) Fishburne was screaming "Waaaake Uuuuup!" like he did at the end of School Daze, it occured to me that somehow, I'm not attracting men to me that are happy in their romantic relationships.

Many of the men I mentioned above are friends, some are family. But some are men I've dated (past and present -- I'm not a ho). One thing's for sure though -- the constant here is ME. So, I can't blame these men for my lack of success in the love department -- at least not entirely. Afterall, I'm surrounded by men in varying degrees of relationship turmoil. As for the ones I was linked to romantically, there were some cheaters along the way. And there was one who lied about his vasectomy knowing I wanted to have children. And then there was the man who argued with me like I was a DUDE! (Whoa, was that one ever scary!) But all in all, I attracted these men to me.

And now I'm clear on the concept.

I don't want to rescue any more men. I don't want to save any more men from their relationship drama/trauma. I don't want to be Ms. Save-A-Brotha. When it comes to the early phases of dating, I don't want to be the one he leans on in a time of need. Not now. I just don't.

Hear me out.

I am willing, as Chaka Khan says, to go through the fire with my man. But not if it's a fire that's already an inferno by the time I arrive on the scene. A little smoke I can work with. But no 4-alarm blazes while I'm still learning this man and trying to build a foundation. How can I build a solid relationship with a man when the FOUNDATION IS ALREADY SHAKY??? (If you have an answer...I'll wait.)

Basically, it isn't working for me. And when I talk to God today my prayer for my future "significant other" has changed. I simply want a man who is currently happy and in a good place in his life. I pray that he's calm, no longer bitter and has room for me in his life. Quite simply, I no longer am willing to wait for a man who must squeeze me into his drama, penciling me in between the custody hearings and ex-wife-can't-get-it-through-her-head-it's-over phone calls.

All I'm saying is, I'm at peace and I simply want my man to be -- at least for now, in the beginning. And if I see billows of smoke begin to rise along the way, we can go both through the fire together.

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

If Someone's Drowning, Don't Jump In

If you see someone splashing around for dear life, drowning in some body of water, "Rescue 101" goes as follows: Toss out a flotation device or offer a pole for the drowning person to grasp. Then, guide them to safety. But under no circumstances should you jump into the water to rescue a drowning person!

Why? Because well-intended, would-be rescuers DIE trying to rescue someone else. The instinct to stay alive is so strong that if a drowning person has to literally stand on top of YOUR head to stay above water, they will.

A drowning person is a threat because they can think of only one thing -- themselves. They want to LIVE. They can't hear anyone. They cannot see the water's edge. They are truly in the moment. They are no longer a salesman, church pastor, attorney, doctor, school teacher or any other title. At that moment, as they are gasping for precious air, they are simply DROWNING.

Then I looked at my relationship with a man I was dating.

And a shockwave ripped through my entire body when I realized I had willingly gotten into the water with a man who was drowning in his own circumstance. (And if you really know me, you know I'd rather swap out the word "circumstance" for a choice 4-letter word that starts with an "s" and ends with a "t.")

I realized that despite my best efforts at being supportive, offering help and lending a listening ear, my man didn't want any of it. He was drowning. He couldn't see me; he couldn't hear me; he didn't even notice I was tossing him a life preserver. Like a truly drowning man, he was only thinking of himself.

Don't get me wrong. At the time, my man was catching more hell than he'd experienced his whole life. He was swimming in more "circumstance" (insert that choice 4-letter word here, please) than any person should ever have to. In fact, he was fighting for his life and the lives of his kids. And, before this moment, I can't say I would have done any better than he did.

Meanwhile, like a good little woman who didn't want to be accused of not standing by a good man, I started doing all kinds of stuff to help him through his "circumstance." (Insert the word again!) I consulted every relevant professional within a 50-mile radius to make sure my man knew he could count on me in the good times and the bad. I'd even learned things to help him that he'd never even heard of before. And in my naivete, I thought I was fighting for him -- for "us."

But here's the rub: HE DIDN'T ASK ME FOR MY HELP. I dove into that man's cesspool of mess face first -- thwack! And when I really took a deeper look, God didn't ask me to help Himeither.

And then I began to feel things. The more I interfered with God's plan for this man, the more I was in pain -- actual uncomfortable pain. I mean, my blood pressure was rising; I was losing weight; I couldn't sleep; I was snapping at co-workers and miserable company for my friends.

So, I got out of his personal pool of mess, and I apologized to God for getting in His way. I stepped back and let him find his own way to the edge of the pool. I realized that in my own life, I'd been anointed by going through my own troubles the way the Good Lord had designed. And the only thing that got me through those troubles was God's intervention.

If you've gone through anything, you know that no one can teach you like He can, and some of the lesson plans He's got cooked up are so unbelievable you know there's a blessing on the other side of your troubles. Besides, the way God teaches a lesson, there's no need to repeat it. And if I had rescued my man, he wouldn't have learned the lesson as God had designed it for him.

I used to be one of those people that believed love would save the day, that love conquers all. I don't believe that so much anymore. Sometimes, the conquering is better left to the Lord.

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Don't Show Me Your Ass

As my mom, Patricia, tells the story, my dad pulled her aside one Saturday afternoon and said: "P, you know you're the most beautiful woman in the world to me. But for the life of me, I'll never understand why Monday through Friday you get dressed up for those people at work and on Saturdays and Sundays you walk around here looking like a mess."

But before you become mortified, my mom is quick to clarify that my dad wasn't asking her to put on stockings, high heels and full face of make-up topped off by a fresh-out-the-salon hair style. He just really wanted her to put a little curl in her hair and maybe put on a little lipstick and mascara. Nothing inconvenient or unreasonable. After all, the weekends were about cleaning the house, taking care of the lawn, doing laundry, getting groceries and getting back in time to watch Soul Train at noon, right after Fat Albert. (Hey, hey, hey!)

Now, don't get it twisted. A lesser woman would've cussed my dad out, snatched up me and my younger brother (I couldn't have been older than 7 years old) and moved on about her business hollering something about female liberation the entire way. Instead, my then 20-something mom understood that my dad was, at least, being honest with her. He could've kept it inside, slowly begining to resent her for not maintaining the vision of beauty with which he first fell in love. Worse yet, he could've grown to resent the fact that she was looking good for everyone else, except him. Men, after all, are visual creatures -- let's not deny this key fact. My dad could've also sought beauty elsewhere. I thank God my dad wasn't that kind of man.

I must've been in my mid-30's when mom told me the story over the phone one evening, and it was just a few years after he'd passed. Hearing that story, for me, was like a golden nugget of information about my dad who was no longer with me. As mom and I giggled about how dad had sho' nuff told my momma to get it together, it suddenly reminded me that dad had told me something similar to what he'd told mom. When I was a pre-teen, he said that I was not to be seen walking around the house without passing a comb through my bushy unpermed hair and still in my jammies. No, I wasn't at that lipstick and curling irons stage, but he was telling me the same thing, in essence. GET IT TOGETHER!

Fast forward to the year 2010, and I'm no longer an 11-year-old girl. I'm a much wiser 38-year-old woman. And dad's been deceased for 12 years now. But the story hit me in a way I'd never seen it before. What my then-young father was telling his young bride is this: don't give your best to people OUTSIDE of the relationship -- give it to me.

And then POW! I got struck with all kinds of revelation.

Dad's message to mom, at its core, was to not give your best to people outside of the relationship and then come home giving less than your best. Moreover, don't assume the people in the relationship with you will accept you at your worst all the time.

Then I applied this new understanding to my own dwindling, dying, damaged relationship with a man who was going through so many things he'd begun to show me his worst after promising me his best. But what really lit my fire was knowing this same man who was basically showing me his ass was getting up every day, going into the office and giving customers and colleagues, supervisors and strangers his BEST!!! It really infuriated me. Why? Because those people at the job wouldn't have cared one way or the other if he was present or not. Had he been fired or resigned, it would've been "on to the next one!" As for me, I offered this man my financial assistance. And when I did, he never responded. Nor did he ever accept the help.

Again, this man that I cared about was going through some major life-altering events. But then again, we all do...eventually. And while I don't deny him that, I cannot ignore the fact that he still got up every day and gave the people at his job his best and damned near ignored me. He showed me his ass.

The bottom line is to keep a relationship in tact, you have to give your best. And while we all fall down and we all sometimes give our worst to those who love us best...you'd better be sure the people who love you are willing to deal with it for prolonged periods of time.

After my dad sat my mom down and asked her to share some of "the pretty" with him, mom took the time to make herself up every weekend. Some weekends, she looked spectactular -- and for no particular reason.

My dad would see mom applying mascara and putting on a little lipstick some Saturday mornings. And he'd ask: "P, where you going?"

She'd say, "Nowhere."

And dad knew she was looking good just for him.

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.