My dear nephew Mandrake,
Tomorrow you enter marriage.
This is a wonderful institution built upon love, trust, companionship, compromise, and occasionally pretending you do not remember who scratched the Volvo.
As a man who has been best man thirteen times, I feel obligated to pass along certain truths.
First, women often say exactly what they mean.
Except when they say:
“Fine.”
“Fine” is one of the most dangerous words in the English language.
Historians estimate that civilizations have collapsed over misunderstandings involving “fine.”
Napoleon heard Josephine say “fine” and immediately invaded Russia.
At least that’s my understanding of European history.
Now, when your future wife becomes upset, you must understand something important:
Facts are irrelevant.
Facts are decorative throw pillows.
Logic is irrelevant.
Evidence is irrelevant.
Your innocence is not merely useless — it is provocative.
Therefore, after years of scientific observation, I have concluded that husbands possess only two safe responses:
A — “I’m sorry.”
or
B — “It’s all my fault.”
That’s it.
There are no other viable options.
Never say:
“Let’s examine this rationally.”
That sentence has caused more suffering than medieval dentistry.
Suppose your wife says:
“You forgot our anniversary.”
Even if you are literally standing inside the anniversary dinner reservation while holding flowers and tickets to Italy — you must still say:
“I’m sorry.”
Or:
“It’s all my fault.”
This calms the emotional weather system.
Do not resist.
The male ego has sunk many ships.
Admiral Horatio Nelson once allegedly spent three hours explaining to Lady Hamilton why technically he had not been flirting with two opera singers in Venice.
The discussion ended with furniture damage.
Abraham Lincoln understood this principle perfectly.
People think he freed the slaves because of moral courage.
Nonsense.
Mary Todd Lincoln once looked at him and said:
“Fine.”
Within six months he signed the Emancipation Proclamation just to restore peace in the house.
Now recently I discovered a third response.
A superior response.
A masterpiece.
It comes from the TV series The Closer.
There was a detective named Provenza, played by G. W. Bailey.
Brenda catches him behaving badly and scolds him.
He replies with magnificent fake remorse:
“I am so ashamed.”
Mandrake…
This is genius.
Not:
“I’m sorry.”
Not:
“It’s all my fault.”
But:
“I am so ashamed.”
The brilliance lies in its theatrical grandeur.
It sounds remorseful while revealing absolutely nothing.
It admits guilt without specifying the crime.
It suggests suffering.
It hints at reflection.
It creates the illusion that somewhere deep inside you, a tiny monk is whipping himself beside a candle.
Meanwhile your actual thoughts may be:
“I honestly have no idea what’s happening.”
This line works beautifully in almost every marital situation.
Examples:
“You left wet towels on the bed.”
“I am so ashamed.”
“You flirted with the waitress.”
“I am so ashamed.”
“Why is there a chainsaw in the guest bathroom?”
“I am so ashamed.”
At this point your wife may become too confused to continue arguing.
Which is often the closest thing to victory a husband will ever experience.
Please understand:
Marriage is not about winning.
Marriage is about surviving with enough dignity remaining to occasionally order dessert.
And if all else fails — bring flowers.
Flowers are the diplomatic immunity of marriage.
Your loving uncle,
jaron
