The Marinara Sauce Story

The following is a true story. Totally gross, but true.

Years ago when Shawn was in the Navy, I went to Israel with a few other Navy wives to see our sailors while their ship was in port. One of the other ladies, Mrs. Love (can't remember her first name) told me a story on the trip across the Atlantic. She had some kind of family tradition involving that "time of the month" and marinara sauce - and how by feeding your new husband some, you know, would bond him to you forever. I wanted to throw up. I thought she was kidding. Later on at our new local hangout in Haifa, The Milky Pinky, sitting on the patio, eating ice cream, she brought up the story in front of all the guys. Mr. Love was overcome with happiness, glowing at his new bride and her adorable ways, thinking about that spaghetti night back home.

Somehow it all came back to me when Shawn told me that Shana called about a funny new product called the Diva Cup (I hang out with a bunch of Divas, so she thought I needed to know about it).

divacup

I have no idea how it works, but it's an alternative to tampons and pads. Shawn asked her, "What are you supposed to do with what's in the cup? Make marinara sauce?"

I feel like tracking down Mrs. Love...