Anytime I see the show Sister Wives, I can’t help but think, “Damn I need to get me some of those.” Funnily enough, Husband agrees.
I’d be the first wife, so I’d be the most important. There’d be a cleaning wife, a cooking wife, a chauffeur wife, a babysitting wife, and a miscellaneous jobs wife. I’d be the leisure activities wife.
A typical day would begin with some sort of beautification. I’m not talking about my typical three minute shower while playing peek-a-boo with my infant on the other side of the curtain. No. I mean some serious treatment. I’d get a pedicure or a facial perhaps…with a glass of Chardonnay. Naturally, the glass of Chardonnay would lead to good conversation, and a box of wine later, I’d be too tipsy to drive. The chauffeur wife would have to pick me up and take me home. She’d tuck me in for a nap in a freshly made bed courtesy of the miscellaneous jobs wife.
After my siesta, I’d be treated to a languorous lunch made by the cooking wife. The cleaning wife would tidy up while I puttered and practiced my ‘art’. By this point I’d be all sobered up, so I’d take the kids somewhere fun like the beach or the liquor store. Not all the kids though, just the one I like. The annoying ones would stay with the babysitter wife; after all, her life has to feel somewhat meaningful too. In the evening, the cleaning wife would get the house in order while the miscellaneous jobs wife tucked the kids in and made lunches for the next day. I’d play in a band, go to the gym, read interesting books, socialize, and take French lessons.
Wait a minute…band, gym, books, excessive socializing and French? Plus, six bitchy girls for every one guy? That sounds just like high school, and I hated that place.
On second thought…maybe I don’t need any sister wives. Maybe I need to get my love muffin some Brother Husbands instead. Yeah…an odd jobs husband, gourmet meal husband, a baby whisperer husband, a ‘crack me up’ husband, and a tidy up around the house husband. That’d do the trick.
OH WAIT. My love muffin is already ALL OF THOSE THINGS. (Aww…) Looks like I only need the one then. Oh, and Husband, if you ever come home with a gaggle of sister wives, you’re dead meat.