Superman and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary this past August. Five years have gone by so fast. And here we are: two kids and countless arguments later still chugging along like The Little Engine That Could. “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.’ Except we know we can. We know we can make it to that finish line at which death does us part. (That’s not morbid at all.)
So here I sit, thinking about the vows I made to my husband five years and some odd days ago when I was younger, thinner, and had no idea what marriage was really like. Who started this practice of vowing to do things that we knew nothing about. Making promises we didn’t know if we could keep because we didn’t know JUST how many times that man facing us with a grin on his face was actually going to pass gas and fan the covers.
Most wedding vows read something like, “I promise to love, honor, obey, and cherish you through sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do us part.” That sounds so nice, doesn’t it?
Fast forward: The honeymoon is over. He just left his wet towel on the freshly made bed again. And she didn’t wash clothes yesterday, so you’re out of clean drawers. Better yet, he just pooped in the only bathroom and you have to put your makeup on in the stank. And she taped over that (insert football game here) with When Harry Met Sally. Don’t worry, I’ll wait to see how this unfolds. Where’s the popcorn?
Here’s my rendition of what wedding vows should ACTUALLY read. Because marriage.
His: My darling wife, I promise to try my best not to gag and yell when your two-foot-long hair clogs the drain and I have to clean it out. Again. I vow to keep my mouth shut and buy new underwear on my way to work because you forgot to wash that load yesterday. I vow to eat the dinner you made and do my best not to make the “sour lemon” face because your cooking is NOTHING like mama’s. I vow to roll the window down in the car when I fart so you don’t have to wallow in the same funk that arguably caused the Black Plague. I vow to keep you warm at night when you shove your ice cold feet between my thighs with no warning whatsoever and give you my jacket when you’re cold and didn’t wear yours because it “didn’t match your outfit.’ I promise to protect you from all threats, whether foreign, domestic, eight-legged, or winged. I love you forever.
Hers: My sweet, sweet husband, I’ll forever be yours. I promise to not force you to watch EVERY chick flick on opening night. I promise to shave my legs at least once a month during the winter to make you feel special. I promise to never wear granny panties or put in my retainer early in an effort to get you to let me sleep. I vow to not roll my eyes EVERY time you yell at the television as if the quarterback can ACTUALLY hear you. I will not tell you to tuck-and-roll out of the moving vehicle when you complain about my driving. I promise to give the stink-eye to any girl who might possibly be looking your way in order to protect you from her scheming ways and I will always let your ex-girlfriends know just how taken you really are with a nice butt-smack. You’re welcome. I can’t wait to start this journey with you.
And this, my friends, is married life.
Love to my loves,