I get asked a lot about married life. People always want to know how it is. “Have you got him trained yet?” they inquire.
And I laugh and say lands, yes. Training was my very first order of business. Seconds after we said, “I do,” I laid down the law. He’s had one or two accidents, but these days he mostly he uses the toilet like a Big Husband.
I’ve got him cooking now, too. People are amazed at his progress. They ask me how I did it. Well, it’s no big secret, really — just your standard system of rewards for good behavior. Every time he responds correctly to my commands, I shove his face in my chest. Boobies are his favorite treat.
Next I think we’ll tackle expanding his vocabulary from one- to two-syllable words.
But marriage is more than words, boobs, cooking, and bathroom habits. It’s even more than a rainbow-colored collection of KitchenAid mixers. I like to line mine up on the counter from the warm to the cool hues, personally. And I’m still a little angry that they sell a Boysenberry but not a true Lavender.
Marriage would definitely be better with the Lavender.
My single friends who are still dreaming of that walk down the aisle always ask me all the time what it’s like to be married. How it feels. And I sigh and say, “Well, it’s a lot like baking a cake.” And then I stop there because I never know where I’m going with that metaphor. And I stare at them knowingly until they leave.
The truth is that it’s hard. No one wants to admit it, but I will. I had to think long and hard about getting married. I mean, I spent at least ten minutes mulling it over as I was waiting for my oil change. No more than 30, really. They aren’t lying when they call themselves “jiffy,” in my experience. I just wish they’d put some more magazines out for their customers.
No one really talks about the hard times. We’ve had many hard times in our marriage. Like Valentine’s Day. For some reason my husband is unable to learn to read my mind about what I want, so Valentine’s Day always ends in tears. Usually his, because I’ve locked him out of the house and he’s missing his favorite shows.
So it’s hard, but I’ve taken it upon myself to open up about the hardness. I want my single friends to know that marriage isn’t about roses and diamonds like they think it is. I mean, there’s the one diamond, to start. And I’ve also received roses. But not, like, every day. There isn’t just a bed of rose petals waiting for you right on the other side of the wedding. Which is probably something I should have talked about with the coordinator, now that I think of it.
Never do it for love or companionship or mutual respect. That’s the kind of thing they try to sell you in movies — lies! It helps to stay honest. So every time he does something that makes me mad, I post about it on Facebook. My friends always side with me, so I always win.
But the thing that really sold me on marriage, in the end, was the idea of togetherness. And not in the sense of being, like, together together. I just mean that I wanted someone in my life. You know. Someone to mix me a drink. Someone to carry in the boxes from Ikea for me. Someone to scratch my back in that place I can’t reach. Someone to hand me the remote.
I couldn’t see my life without any of these things. Especially the part with the drink.
Because people turn to me so often for my perspective on marriage, I finally sat down and made a list of the reasons why I got married. I thought I’d share because they’re useful for everyone:
- I wanted all my problems to be solved.
- Singlehood is perpetual Opening Day. His ass wasn’t truly mine until I locked that ish down. Now no one else can ever have it!
- You don’t get to be somebody until you’re a Mrs.
- Nothing says power and status like a little sparkle and flash from your ring finger.
- Everyone else was doing it.
- I wanted to be special and the center of attention for one day.
- Ladies can’t have babies without getting married first! Duh.
- My dad said he was going to stop supporting me once I turned 30.
- We really needed a set of matching wine glasses.
Are you married? Are you thinking about getting married? Do yourself a favor and read that list over a few times. Really get it in your head. Because I’m not trying to say I’m an expert or anything, but I know a thing or two about it.
Just ask my husband.
LOVE. THIS. Maybe you should have submitted it to A Practical Wedding? Because those ladies need to hear the truth.
Not to stir shit (except I am totally stirring shit), but what does that mean? Is APW full of those “we never fight everything is perfect!” types of marrieds?
Oooh, I’ll help stir! My answer to RHD is a resounding “YES!”
Don’t drink the APW Kool-Aid.It turns you into a raging, politically correct, hipster-wanna-be-but-who-wants-to-be-that kinda bride, feeling guilty for spending money on a gown you really like because it’s against the APW way to want to feel like a pretty pretty princess on your wedding day.
Amongst other rants, that is.
Ohhh man. You crack me up. And I second submitting it to APW. THIS IS HOW MARRIAGE WORKS, LADIES.
Marriage is tough and to make it work, my husband and I have to work at it every day. Its not all sunshine and puppy dogs all of the time, but its not all gloom and doom either. I think sometimes you need to experience the lows to really enjoy the highs in a relationship (and ideally, there are more highs than lows).
Putting your marital gripes up on Facebook? Genius! I’ll just delete all of the comments that say I’m wrong to have expected a new diamond necklace on his birthday and then show him the people who agree with me. That way I’m SURE to get what I want, all the time!
You are the best marriage counselor ever.
THANK YOU. I think I missed my calling.
I had to set down my tea, lest I snort it out my nose.
I have to repeatedly explain that while I have failed at training F at least he is housebroken.
Which is to say I’m laughing really fing hard at work. Oops.
It’s okay! I like to tell my work I’m having an attack of “womanly hysteria” when that happens. Then they all look scared and back away.
I’m afraid to. I made a Yellow Wallpaper reference here about a month ago and everyone looked at me like I had too heads. #wrongaudience
Oh my gosh! I’d completely forgotten I’d read that story until I looked it up again just now. Thanks for unlocking that memory!
You are so awesome.
Dude, your NAME is awesome!
Not gonna lie, this sort of pisses me off. You get BOXES at Ikea? We don’t even get bags. So offended.
I’m thinking you could train your husband to put the stuff in boxes, then carry them into the house? Seems like a nice little weekend project.
i post my marriage gripes on twitter – from my professional business account. i win!
And we will always take your side, Lauren.
Since mine isn’t even housebroken yet, I get a refund, right? But I’m keeping the Kitchenaid.
God will you write a book already. Ahhhh!
BOOOK. I also demand a book. And then roses.
You deserve five beds of roses, Meghan. The kind without thorns. And with chocolate. And booze.
“And I stare at them knowingly until they leave.” – I laughed so hard at this, the neighbor’s dog started barking in response.
I’ll buy you roses if you write a book. How about that?
Awww, you are so sweet dear Bunny.
Very good! However, I feel that you left out a few of the most important “reasons for marriage.” Like access to dental insurance! And that when creepy people show up at your door asking to sell you something/convert to their religion/ask to shovel your driveway for an shocking fee, you can sweetly say “My husband is the head of this household and makes all those decisions. And I’m afraid he isn’t home right now, so please disperse.”
Totally! And I’m going to have to start using “please disperse.”
You’re awesome- the. end. I LOVE THIS!
Now see THIS is the life I have been waiting to live.
I like to answer “how’s married life?” with “Great! When we fight I don’t worry that we’re about to break up because getting divorced is such a hassle.” It is both true and conversation-stopping!
My new answer to “how’s married life?” is “the same except he has health insurance now.” People never know what to say after that.
I kept the KitchenAid! I totally better-dealed that one.
Having an attack of womanly hysteria in response to this right now. Someone pass the smelling salts.