My Husband is Ashamed of Me

We have neighbors who we adore. More specifically, our neighbor is my husband's soulmate. He's from Boston, he loves the Sawks, he coaches baseball, he is generally crude, rude and socially unacceptable, and regularly uses words like peckerhead. We'll call him Maahhk (think Mark said with that Jimmy Fallon boston accent from SNL.) Lucky for me, Maahhk is married.

Of course Maahhk's family back in Boston are also diehard Red Sox fans. We've heard legendary Yankee hating stories centered around Maahhk's father and his unwavering hatred of all things NY, each tale more outlandish than the next. So when Maahhk announced that his Dad was coming to visit and we just had to meet him, I was a little nervous.....but totally up for the challenge. I'm riding a World Series Championship here, no Sox fan can take me down!

Finally the big day came that we were supposed to meet the Grand Daddy Yankee Hater of them All, and I noticed that Zeb seemed to be awkwardly trying to make a break for it and go by the neighbors house without me. I questioned him, and he told me that I should just stay home.

That's right, he told me to stay home because he was embarrassed for our neighbor's family to know that he is married to a Yankees fan. He is ashamed of ME!?

I gave him a hard time about it when he got back, and he finally admitted that he was indeed worried that if Maahhk's dad saw that he was married to a Yankees fan that he would not be considered a "true Red Sox fan." Real nice.