Email This Post HomeHumorEurotrash Husband Amy Vansant June 19, 2012 Humor 12 Comments After watching French Open tennis my husband Mike decided to become European. It happened without warning; one day he was as American as a toddler in a tiara and next he was French. Or British. Or Italian. It was hard to tell from the accent. He might have been Mexican; the accent was thatbad, as Roland Garros became Rrrrrroland Gaaahrrrrrossssss. It sounded like he was swallowing his tongue. I can’t even tell you how he dressed the neighbor’s dog. One of the first signs to tip me off to his European transformation was the fact he’d started to wear a scarf everywhere. He went to bed in boxers, woke up in jaunty scarf and a $5000 watch. Day two he still sat on the sofa watching tennis, but now he had a hot girlfriend in dark sunglasses perched next to him. I shooed her out of the house and bolted the door. I kept her sunglasses; they were super cute. Next, when I couldn’t remember the name of the actress playing Don Draper’s French mother-in-law on Mad Men, he suggested it might be “Mar-Go Faw-Two.” “Margot Faw-Two? Ah, no. That’s not it,” I assured him. “You’re not even pronouncing it correctly,” he scoffed, sneering in such a way his upper lip landed somewhere in the middle of his forehead. “What? ‘Faw-Two?'” I asked. “I’m not pronouncing ‘Faw-Two’ correctly because it is a totally made up French noise, not a name.” He shook his head with disgust, threw down his croissant and lit a cigarette. He doesn’t smoke. I have no idea where he got the croissant. He hadn’t had one just a moment before. The next work day, he took a two hour lunch and quit at 2pm. He biked to work, which was really weird, because he works in our basement. As he pedaled by me in the kitchen, he leaned over the handle bars and flipped me off like I’d seen the Italians do to my taxi driver during a trip to Rome. Whenever I left the room he called “Cheers!” Whenever I entered the room he kissed me on both cheeks. When I brought him a cold lemonade, he eyed me suspiciously, unsure what the floating cubes of frozen water in his drink might be. He seemed very happy, so I had every intention of letting it continue. Then the Jerry Lewis DVDs started showing up from Netflix. That was the end of that. I took emergency measures and sat him in front of a marathon showing of Goodfellas and Hooters commercials until it finally wore off and he was once again an American. At least until The British Open in July. About Latest Posts Amy VansantAmy Vansant is a USA Today and Wall Street Journal Best-Selling author specializing in fun, funny fiction --- even the murder mysteries. Latest posts by Amy Vansant (see all) Earn Gifts by helping me grow, giveaways and book deals - November 28, 2018 Win a Kindle, Poltergeists and Book Deals… - November 21, 2018 Where being hard-headed and cooking doesn’t mix… giveaways and deals - November 15, 2018 12 Responses iampisspot June 19, 2012 Did he also start drinking Pimms, wearing really silly straw hats, guffawing and saying “blah-dy hell, jolly hockeysticks, good job, ole’ boy”? My people are a weird folk… 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant June 19, 2012 Eerie… how did you know?? I had to spend the rest of the day getting him to repeat “The RAIN in SPAIN falls mainly in the PLAIN” (which I’d like to admit the first time I heard that watching “My Fair Lady” I spent the next 15 years wondering why it was raining in a plane.) 0 likes Reply Suniverse June 19, 2012 I want to be European now. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant June 20, 2012 I do picture it as a magical place filled with cream teas and pastries. 0 likes Reply Carrie - Cannibalistic Nerd June 20, 2012 When Wimbledon starts he’s going to become very irate if you aren’t wearing all white every day. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant June 20, 2012 Blarg. No one wants to see that. 0 likes Reply tracey June 20, 2012 I am also thinking that a European husband might be an interesting change of pace. I could even go for the girlfriend if it meant that I could get a boyfriend. In fact, that sounds INCREDIBLY European… Totally picturing him throwing a croissant. And now I want a croissant. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant June 20, 2012 During this phase he actually bought me a chocolate filled croissant so it wasn’t all that bad… 0 likes Reply Jen June 21, 2012 Hilarious! My favorite part is him cycling to work. I’m not sure if he will be more or less appealing once Wimbeldon rolls around. I’ll send you my favorite Pimm’s recipe. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant June 21, 2012 Please do! I don’t know if I’ve ever had a Pimms, which I find almost inconceivable.. but I guess it is possible I missed one drink. 0 likes Reply Scargosun June 21, 2012 Don’t forget Wimbledon…alos Pimms and Ginger Ale rocks. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. 0 likes Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Add me to Amy Vansant's Humor Newsletter!