Dani Klein Modisett: My husband is not a sports fan, doesn't text his girlfriends while we're fighting and even puts the toilet seat down without being asked.
But he is a Facebooker (if that has, in fact, become a noun). The other day, he quoted me on his "wall." It was a comment I'd made between bites of toast that I never thought would end up public.
It's important to this story that you know I've been a comic for over a decade, and that my husband has generously allowed me to make fun of him, his only stipulation being that whatever I say be funny.
By way of example, a story of mine was published in several outlets, about me driving sperm across Los Angeles as part of our proactive attempts to have our second child. My husband took a lot of grief from his fraternity brothers of yore. "That was your sperm, wasn't it, dude?" they mocked. His only response? "Good story, huh?"
So I can't exactly play the virgin card on making our private life public -- which raises an important question about new media. When I wrote that story five years ago, my husband knew about it; it appeared once in the L.A. Times and was on its website for one day. Sure, you can Google it and find it, and yes, that matters. But Facebooking coffee talk without context or crafting and, let's be honest, my having a total lack of control over where it ends up ... this was enough for me to shut the door on social networking. Or so it felt that day. Wink, smiley face.
My betrothed and I had a blowup about it because I never miss an opportunity to be right in my marriage (what is a more fun and less useful exercise?), and, without warning me first, I was RIGHT in ALL CAPS. My husband assured me he wouldn't quote me again, and he hasn't.
To my surprise, our altercation gave me pause the other day when I wanted to post the cutest thing my almost-3-year-old said in the car. So I asked him first.
"Gideon, can Mommy repeat what you just said on the Internet so she can connect with her friends and show off how exceptionally bright and witty you are?"
Fortunately, he's at the age where the only right answer comes to him effortlessly.
"NO, Mommy. NO!"