If you want someone to do something, tell them NOT to do it. This guy could be an axe-murderer, but if you say to your sister, “Look, he doesn’t fit the mould” (or if you call immigration) she might just run off with him. You shouldn’t lie, though, and neither should your old man: if your sister asks for approval, you should both come clean and tell her what you think. I’ve had all sorts come into my house over the years to see my girls… although most of the time they don’t approve of
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
When I was growing up in England, this problem was always the other way round—parents wanted their kids to look after
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
If you can write to Dr. Ozzy about this, your missus can surely have a quiet word with her sister. Not, “Your husband’s an incompetant, whingeing arsehole,” but something more like, “Look, our two husbands have been butting heads on this DIY project, and I’m worried that if they keep at it they might fall out, and I’d really hate that to happen, so why don’t we tell ’em to take a break from working together on the house for a while?” The alternative is to just put up with it—but in my experience of having renovated half the Western hemisphere with Sharon, people get very stressed-out during construction, and at some point another, voices will be raised… or worse.
IV: SPOUSES & IN-LAWS
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
It’s one thing saying, “I married
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Get a dog. That way, you can look like a hero by filling up your plate and then coming back for more… while passing down handfuls of lumpy mashed potato to your four-legged friend under the table. Just don’t get a dog that’s too big: having a ten-stone Rottweiler burping and slobbering by your feet’s gonna be a bit of a giveaway, especially if he farts. Another trick is to stuff the food in your pocket. One time I managed to fit all three courses of one of Sharon’s dinners into my coat. The only problem was, I forgot all about it, so when she took a trip to the dry-cleaners a few months later, she found my stash of rock-hard dumplings. Most of ’em ended up being thrown at my head.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Some people turn to God like others turn to cocaine—usually ’cos there’s something missing in their lives. I had a very good friend who was an addict for years, and the second he gave it up, he became a Jesus-freak. It was like he swapped one for the other. Talk to your wife about it. See if you can find out what it is that’s making her so intense all of a sudden. But if she continues this way, there’s gonna be a blow up at some point, mark my words. Evangelists are supposed to evangelise, so eventually she’s gonna be on your case about the “good news.” And that’ll be very bad news for you. (After this question was published, I got an e-mail from a guy called Paul from Oxford, who said his Catholic mum and atheist dad had been together for 30 years. “The bottom line is if they have love and respect for each other,” he told me. “If not, then that’s where the problems start, irrespective of religious persuasion.”)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I’ve had first-hand experience of this problem, and it’s a tough one. At one point I was spending so much time juggling between my first wife, Thelma, and my second wife, Sharon, I’d come home and call the missus “Tharon”—which earned me more than a few black eyes, believe me. Over in California, you hear of these weird families where everyone’s divorced and remarried but still friends, but that’s gotta be pretty fucked up. I mean, we’re all human. It sounds to me like you’ve started to feel a bit like the booby prize when it comes to your bloke. My advice would be to talk to him about it, but do in a way that doesn’t sound like a criticism. Put yourself in his shoes; ask yourself what it would be like if