Sunday, June 20, 2010


We are heading to a wedding this weekend. The last wedding we attended included a promise by the wife to submit to the husband, at which point Baby W let loose with an earsplitting grunt, likely editorial in nature.

I can't help being somewhat cynical at weddings, as I mentally calculate what year the happy couple is most likely to split. Will it be the three year well-that-was-a-colossal-mistake approach? The twelve year Christ,-you're-boring-me? Or maybe, just maybe if they're very lucky and have a sound foundation of love and respect, maybe the couple can make it all the way to their 40th before separating, ala Al & Tipper. I am a blast to have at weddings, oh yes I am.

David and I had originally planned to not marry even after we had a child, mostly because we liked striking a blow at the institution of family, helping crumble the underpinnings of society, and unraveling the very fabric of our civilization. It's not often you can strike such a blow for anarchy by not doing something.

Finances got kind of complicated, though, and I decided things would be easier if we got married. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: "There's certain documentation we need, like birth certificates, in order to get married. I'm going to work on getting those together unless you tell me not to." [Beat] "Consider that a proposal."

David: [Long pause. Deep breath. And yet another pause.] "I guess I can't think of any good reason why we shouldn't."

Me: "And I consider that an acceptance!"

And thusly we were hitched.


  1. My husband started his proposal with, "I swore I was never going to do this again, but..." He proposed to his first wife over the phone, stayed married to her for 23 years, married his second wife so he could go to Thailand with her on a grant for cheap (then she died of cancer), and married me so I could have insurance. Ah, romance!