The Wife's Bill of Rights

by Jill Adler

Preamble:
We, the wives of America, love being married to the husbands of America. We know we have our faults, but with our ever-morphing roles these days, there's a lot of pressure on us to be superhuman. We care for our families, manage the home, keep ourselves attractive, and even bring home our shares of the bacon. We know we sometimes lash out, but we really do want to "live happily ever after" with you. Our mutual acknowledgement of these amendments can go a long way toward achieving that.

Amendment I
We have the right to dislike your buddies.
We know it's important for you to have your guy friends, but you should know by now that we're not turned on by your stories of the good old days at college, your sexual exploits, or which relief pitcher the Red Sox should trade. Disappear for a while and be boys—it's OK, go chug beer and high-five—but please don't expect us to be happy when your friends come over and put their feet on our coffee tables or leave their beer cans on the floor.

Amendment II
We have the right to experience PMS in all its glory.
Either give us our space or accept the consequences. We know it's unfair, but some of us just can't rein it in. You knew that before you married us. We may shout, cry, belittle, act irrationally. It lasts a few days each month, so please deal with it. Or even better: Bring home dinner, clear the dishes, and give us a big hug.

Amendment III
We have the right to demand you finish a household job.
We're not your mothers, and we loathe having to act like them. If you wash the dishes, do them all and clean the sink, too. Don't just bag the trash, take it outside to the bin. If you start a load of laundry, put it in the dryer and fold it too. We don't like nagging any more than you like hearing it.

Amendment IV
We have the right to an honest answer to "What's wrong?"
We admit guilt in this area too, but "Nothing" says nothing. If we ask, it's not because we're trying to make casual conversation. It's because we love you and need an honest answer. If there truly is nothing wrong, then ask why we think otherwise. Yes, this could open a can of worms, but remember when we dated and talked about everything?

Amendment V
We have the right to keep our secrets.
Not marriage-ending ones, just small secrets we choose to hide from others. If we don't want to speak our age or share our true hair color or reveal the cheesy TV shows we watch in private, it's not your place to reveal them to our friends, your business partners, or your ex-girlfriends/wives. We're not asking you to lie for us, but we would appreciate your discretion.

Amendment VI
We have the right to clean air.
You may think it's funny, masculine, or natural to pass gas anywhere and anytime you please, but when the smell drives us to gag, it's uncool. There is something inherently wrong in the relationship if you must walk over to us and fart, or if you intentionally set a bad example for the kids. We fart too, but we do so discreetly for a reason. You may not like our potpourri and scented candles, but they're infinitely better than toxic and flammable methane.

Amendment VII
We have the right to keep and bear tons of girly bathroom products.
You have your tools; so do we. These items are expensive and to be used sparingly. It brings no joy to see our $15 bath bar shrunk down to the size of a quarter after two passes on your chest and legs.

Amendment VIII
We have the right to speak to our girlfriends every day.
About whatever we want, whenever we want. Please don't eavesdrop or criticize. We know you're not that interested in gossip or psycho-analytical interpretations of why some people do what they do, so we turn to our like-minded female friends for instant gratification. Yes, we do talk about you—a lot. It helps us work through issues. This keeps us happy, sane and, usually, off your case.

Amendment IX
We have the right to flirt.
Not the kind that makes you jealous, but the healthy practice of connecting with another person on a non-sexual level. Light banter is fun, quick-witted, and encouraging to our self esteem. It might even remind you of why you feel in love with us. And if it gets us a smoking deal on that new furnace or a free stay for the family at a million-dollar ski chalet, so much the better.

Amendment X
We have the right to foreplay.
A fine bottle of wine, soft music, deep looks into each other's eyes, compliments, holding hands, cuddling—these are all forms of foreplay, and we insist on them. Please don't reach for our crotch or breasts and expect us to melt into a porn kitten. It didn't work when we met, it most certainly doesn't work now. Sure, we women are strong and independent, and appreciate an inspired quickie when the moment strikes, but we also have an inner soft spot the size of Texas that needs squeezing and cherishing. We appreciate you more when you think about how it feels to us rather than how it feels to you.

Name Changer Kit

I've been thinking and looking around... I think one of the presents I'd like to receive (because I've been very tempted to buy it myself on many a many occasions) is one of the many bridal name changer kits. They seem pretty awesome. They have all the paperwork for you to change your passport, address, drivers license, etc. They seem pretty cool.

Halelula!

Chris has finally chosen his ring! He is getting the one featured below:

The metal is Tungsten carbide, which means it can be removed if he's in an accident. "Emergency rooms are usually equipped with jewelers' saws that can easily cut through gold and silver rings without injuring the patient when the ring cannot be slipped off easily. However, these saws are incapable of cutting through tungsten carbide.

Tungsten carbide rings can actually be removed in an emergency situation by cracking them into pieces with standard vice grip–style locking pliers. Although standard ring cutting tools cannot be used due to the hardness of this material, there are specialty cutters available that are just as effective on tungsten carbide as they are on gold and platinum."

This is his work ring. We are getting him a really cool custom ring for the October wedding, because it won't be done by then, but... you'll just have to see...

Chris' Rings

Chris needs to choose a freaking ring. I thing we have looked at hundreds! I know I've looked at thousands, and that's not counting the ones that Chris has looked at with me. I keep telling him that for being so laid back and easy going, he is really really pickie!!!

He needs to just freaking choose one! I thought I knew what he wanted but it turns out I don't. Which is why I have deemed it necessary for HIM to choose the darn thing. I love him to death, but... grrr...

I will give it to him that it is a hard decision. It was a hard enough decision to choose my ring, so choosing his own is understandable. I'm going to take him to the last jewelry store in town and see if he actually picks out one. We shall see... we shall see...

Ring around the finger

I am trying soo hard to loose that last little bit of weight... okay, maybe not that hard. I have been cheating a bit lately because I've been feeling so cruddy with my allergies being so bad lately.
I can almost almost fit in Chris' grandma's ring. I think I'm gonna just have to fess up and get it sized before the wedding.

Fun Wedding Post

One of my box office gal-pals forwarded me this story about a wonderful idea for a home-cooked wedding written by a smitten bride:

I'm so, SO smug. I got married about a month ago and it went so smoothly and graciously. My lovemonkey proposed while we were spending a year teaching in another country and we scheduled the wedding for one month to the day after we stepped off the plane back home. Nuts? Nah. Look at all the problems it solved!

Q: "Oh my goodness, how will you manage to get the invitations sent and RSVPd in time?"
A: "Livejournal!"

Q: "Oh my goodness, how will you rent a hall in time?"
A: "Boy, guess we can't. Looks like we'll have to have it in the backyard!"

Q: "Oh my goodness, what if it rains? Your dress will get ruined!"
A: "I couldn't bear that. I'd better wear something comfy and warm instead. And tanker boots."

Q: "What are people going to eat at the reception? You can't find a caterer in time!"
A: "Hot damn, you're right. Potluck reception with Trader Joe's wine!"

Q: "What are you going to do for a cake? Bridal bakeries only do tastings once a month!"
A: "Sheet cake. A big ol' custom sheet cake. In my favorite flavor."

Q: "Aren't you going to have a registry somewhere?"
A: "No."

So we had an outdoor winter wedding by the beach in Seattle , and it rained. And it was awesome. There were cormorants and SCUBA divers. I wore black and red, the lovemonkey wore green and black, and we both got completely SOAKED. There was no priest, no judge, just him and me and a bunch of people taking pictures with disposable cameras. We made up our vows on the spot. My Maid of Honor didn't know she was the Maid of Honor until I made her come hold the ring box--damn skirt didn't have pockets.

After the vows on the beach, we dripped back up to the house and had an EXTREMELY fine potluck--because my friends and family are good cooks--and good coffee and good wine and NO GODDAMN DANCING. Some people left gifts, some didn't, and everyone had a sweet laid-back time.

The week after the beach ceremony, we went and got legally hitched by a very nice justice of the peace. Then we went for Thai.

I got all the thank-you notes mailed out last week.

And do you know what all this means? It means I'M SO AWESOME. Everybody should have a wedding as cool and homegrown as mine was, but they CAN'T, because I have used up all the cool. Yes I have. There is none for you; give up.
Radcakes
Seattle , WA Tuesday, January 24, 2006

outside the chapel