In one of those rare moments of marital serenity when the children were asleep, the laundry was done, and the garbage had been taken out, I looked lovingly into my husband's eyes and asked the question many wives have asked their husbands throughout the ages: would you ever remarry should something happen to me?
I looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to go on about my endless patience, virtue, and great beauty (all lies, I know, but I like to hear it anyway). Instead, he just said, "no."
Confidently, I prodded. But why? Because nobody could compare? Who else can heat up a frozen pizza better? You couldn't find someone else to put up with your rants during a Bears game? Why would you never seek love like ours again?
"Because being married is like having a boss."
To quote the Brits, I was gobsmacked. My response to that statement could be heard across Western Avenue. But we needn't go there today. Instead, let me recount another tale that occurred while I was pregnant with my 3rd son and we had to determine who was going to get "fixed" due to some pregnancy issues. I had suggested he handle the deed. Snip snip done. His response?
"What if, God forbid, something happens to you and my next wife wants kids?"
I had a host of angry words to say about his "next wife."
"Hold on there," he interrupted. "That's no way to talk about my next wife....she hasn't even been born yet."
And this is ultimately why I love my husband. He has a marvelous sense of humor, doesn't let me get too self-indulgent, and refuses to follow the script. The unexpected can be so much more fun. Once I calm down.