I know what everyone is thinking whenever they see my wife and me walking together:
Wow, that is one lucky woman!
Yes, I’ve seen that look of amazement in your eyes about her good fortune. But you have no idea just how lucky she is because she was able to snatch me up before “sologamy” became a thing.
No, sologamy is not a Winter Olympics sport. It’s the new trend of marrying one’s self. Yes, all those warnings opponents of gay marriage are coming true — you know, they said if you allow same-sex marriage then next everybody will be wanting to marry their cats.
Personally, I think that’s a ridiculous argument because I’ve never met a cat who would stoop so low to marry one of their human servants. Cats don’t even like us, much less love us.
But sologamy is a different story. I could have had the good fortune my wife currently enjoys had I been able to marry myself back then. I could have been the lucky girl, er, I mean guy.
There are so many ways it would have been different. The proposal definitely would have been different. When I asked for my hand in marriage, I wouldn’t have even needed a ring. I could have proposed with a double-chili-cheeseburger. I know how to woo me.
Not only could I have saved money by not buying a ring, but the trip down to Key West to get married would have been a lot cheaper because we could have shared a seat on the flight.
After getting hitched, I imagine me and I would have gotten along splendidly, never fighting. “Why, yes, Chris, you are right! There are too many pillows on the bed! You should go have a beer. And bring me one while you’re at it.”
I would never ask me if I looked fat in anything because I’d already know that I did. If I forgot an important date like the day I met me, I’d probably just let it slide. But I guarantee you I’d be able to tell you exactly what I was wearing, or not wearing, on the day we met.
Sologamy could have its challenges. Right from the start when the witch doctor said I could kiss the bride, I’d have to respond “Not without straining a muscle, I can’t.” The first dance might be equally awkward.
It definitely would be uncomfortable introducing me to my family at holiday gatherings and such. They already looked at me weird when I’d walk in by myself. Can you imagine how weird it would be when both of me walked in? And tax season would be a little confusing because I wouldn’t know whether I should file jointly.
I guess it’s all moot now, though, because I’m spoken for. Sorry, you handsome fella in the mirror, but you had your chance even thought you didn’t know it. Indeed, my wife is one lucky woman that sologamy was not a thing before she had the good fortune of marrying me.
At the time, I believe she called it “whatevergamy.” Must have been a thing back then.
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