Introducing My Hippy Husband

I thought I could share with you some of my husband's insights on being married to this Polish Mama. 

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This week, he has called my Tato (my father) a "Professional Polish Man".  The logic being that since I "blog about being a Professional Polish Woman, [my] Tato is a Professional Polish Man".  Also, he was asking some questions about mead.

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For Christmas, he bought my Tato a bottle of $80 Polish mead and another more reasonably priced bottle of raspberry mead.  Because it's Polish and he googled Polish liquor.  It was delicious, by the way.

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While watching a TV show, he proclaimed "This must be in Poland!"

I asked him why and his answer was that he saw the words "Polski".

When I asked what Polski means, he stated that he had no idea but it was definitely something Polish.

Actually, what he saw was "Poliici" on the back of a Finnish Polish man's uniform.  It means Police in Finnish.

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When he doesn't recognize a recipe and catches me taking pictures of it, he assumes it's Polish.

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He calls trips to Poland "vacation" but I call it "seeing my family".  Vacation and seeing your family are not the same thing.

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He buys me red and green lentils and other "odd" ingredients from the local ethnic store and assumes I know what to do with it.  Sometimes, I do.

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He likes James Brown... And Rick James.  I can't really tell either apart.  He can't tell the difference between Bach and Beethoven.



Na razie...

"Piekny"

My husband and I have been together almost 14 years.  That is a long time.

So far, he has learned a handful of Polish words.

On our honeymoon, we were in Poland picking mushrooms.  He used the word Piekny during that trip.

Piekny in Polish means "Beautiful".

Today in the car, he told me with pride about how he was working at his boss's house.  A couple of men came up who needed to do something with the house and were asking for the boss.  My husband recognized their accents and said "Dzien dobre".  He said the men visibly relaxed and began speaking to him.

He proudly told me that when one of the Polish men asked him if he spoke Polish, he smiled, put his fingers together in the universal sign of "Small" and said "Piekny".

I asked him, "What do you think Piekny means?"  He looked puzzled and said "Small.  Right?"

I shook my head and said "Ummm, no.  I guess at least you tried."  I guess.

He smiled, shrugged and said "Well, I called mushroom piekny in Poland too.  Oh well."

He then turned to me and said "That's because you are my Piekny.  My beautiful wife."  Nice try, smooth operator.

I wonder what he will think Piekny means next time he says it.

Suddenly, I have an overwhelming need to speak more Polish with my children.

Na razie...