We’ve bought a home, we are having a baby and now Miss Leftunders wants to get married before she gets fat with the pregnancy. They say bad things come in threes ha,ha, ha.
To be fair it was only brought up in discussion because I was teasing that her belly will soon grow to be the size of a rhino. From that she proclaimed I would have to marry her while she could still fit into a wedding dress.
Me and my big month now I’m putting ideas and dreams into her head.
Weddings are not cheap to fund. There are venues to book, invites to send out, rings to buy, flowers, photographers to hire. Weddings are stressful, I’d have to do a speech. A wedding is not part of my saving goals. If we did get married it would need some fast planning before her dress size explodes.
I’d also have to remember our wedding anniversary every year. The pressures of being a married man would be huge.
Once we get married and return from the honeymoon the sex would stop. I’d have to pay hookers from my emergency fund or have an affair with the next door neighbour to reduce travel costs.
I’d have to listen, pay attention, nod my head in agreement and always say “Yes honey”. As a husband I’d be expected to understand women’s logic and carry out all the household D.I.Y, including building the house extension with a packet of bricks and my bare hands.
Over the years the demands would be too much. With a ring on my finger I’d slowly twist and transform into a Gollum until the only precious thing in my life would be going fishing and trying to turn invisible so the wife didn’t shout at me.
Becoming man and wife would mean the stress of having to take care of a small rhino together, plus the strain of trying to make each other happy.
And so the wedding plans begin. After this I’d be forever trapped with the women I love.
