I think I’ve found a solution to all my problems. I need a wife!
Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m straight—or at least for now, anyway—and I’m quite happy being with men. But when I think about everything that I do as a wife, I imagine how nice it must be to have one of me around all the time.
The wives I know are the ones who fold the clothes or, at least, see that they end up in drawers or closets. They make most of the meals or, at least, do the grocery shopping, to the point where the other person doesn’t generally have to worry about what to eat or when to eat it. Like magic, the food appears in the refrigerator. Or on a plate.
Sometimes, POOF! It even gets cleaned up, too.
If the wives aren’t so handy in the kitchen, they can sure as heck clean a mean dish. All of the dishes. Not just some or, like, a few spoons and a random plate. They put the food away. They put the tops on things, which seems to challenge a lot of husbands I know.
Oh, and toilet paper. You actually do have to put it back on the roll as much as you might think the little bears on the package put it on for you.
And when wives are getting ready to leave the house, they’re packing the bag full of treats, toys and toiletries; gathering up socks and shoes; and rounding up everything that’s required for a successful adventure with kids so much so that the husband just needs to get his own self out the door, maybe with a little help wrangling the wee ones. Actually, nah, mostly it’s just getting himself out the door.
Do you think it’s an accident that we’ve got 24 crayons, a pack of gum and a Matchbox car in our purse?
Oh hey, where did all these full sippy cups and snacks come from? We must have a fairy in our house, kids!
Actually, dear, you just have a wife. A wife who knows when everyone needs to be where and somehow manages to get them there pretty much on time, fully clothed (the kids and herself, mostly) and with some sort of entertainment, to boot.
Do you think it’s an accident that we’ve got 24 crayons, a pack of gum and a Matchbox car in our purse? Do you believe that Apple just automatically added every Backyardigans episode to our iPhone?
It doesn’t matter if the wife in your house has a vagina. Or if he happens to have a penis. Or if you pay him or her to do all the wifely things. Don’t even get me started on those of you in weird households where you’re both equally wifely.
How is it on Mars? As hot as everyone says?
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The reason why a household functions or at least successfully, anyway, is because someone is the wife. And when you are the wife, well, every now and then you imagine what it would be like if you had one of your very own.
And considering how much I do as a wife, I’m pretty sure it would be nothing short of awesome.