Istanbul

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Marriage is a funny thing to watch after the couple has been together for over twenty years. Shame is eliminated, and aspects of jealousy turn into products of hilarity. 

This is highly the case with my parents. They have been married for over twenty-two years now, me being the product of their sensational honeymoon. I can recall one recent night when From Russia with Love was on the television, and after a copious amount of intimate scenes, my mother thought it necessary to reflect on one of her marriage proposals.

James Bond had happened to be in Istanbul, and that kicked off my mother's story. 
"He promised to take me to Istanbul as a honeymoon. He said that if I accepted his hand in marriage we would leave right away."
My father was quick to inquire before my sister and I. It was as though his ears perked up at the sound of this treachery. "Who?"
My mother laughed to herself. "You wouldn't know him if I said his name!"
He tried again, this time a little more frustrated than the last. "Who is it?"
My mother gave up and surrendered to my father this mysterious man's name. "Josef."
"Josef?" my father erupted into laughter. "Josef! Josef backwards is fart, 'fes-we' in Lebanese, means fart! You were proposed to by a fart?"

My mother laughed. "The power of jealousy!" she exclaimed, "you are so jealous!"
"I'm not jealous!" replied he. "At least my name isn't fart! Go to Istanbul with fart, I don't care!"

It is interesting how despite the lengths you make in life, your past always lurks in your subconscious. Your past always has a way inside your current life - if you are smart, though, you laugh your past off and leave it hanging around in Istanbul, awaiting your arrival that will never come because you are far better off in Melbourne, Australia, honeymoon-less and farting along with and on your spouse as the rest of your family members crawl off into the distance, suffocating.