My mate Richard, forty-two years old, finally managed to bag himself a wife. He claims shes a cracking cleaner, a top-notch cook, and frankly, thats all he really cares about.
Ive known Richard since we were nippers. We grew up knocking about the same cul-de-sac and, of course, became fast friends. When we hit our teens, wed gather the whole gang and wander off into the town centre. Most of the time, we just ambled about or loafed on benches, watching the world go by. Romance with the local girls was less about passion and more about saving face in front of the lads.
Then I joined the army while Richard, somehow, managed to dodge it. After my stint, I got myself a job, then tied the knot. The missus and I had a solid ten years two kids, the lot. But then we woke up one day and realised wed become absolute strangers who happened to share a mortgage. We started bickering about every little thing and realised perhaps it was time to go our separate ways. The divorce paperwork wasnt far behind.
About two years later, now a single man, I bumped into Richard purely by chance. Hed put on a bit of weight in those twelve years looked like hed eaten a few too many full English breakfasts.
We popped into a café for a catch-up. Turns out Richard had ended up divorced as well and was busy searching for wife number two. Another year went by, I met a wonderful woman, and we got hitched.
Next thing you know, I run into Richard again, and, lo and behold, hes landed himself another partner. Ill be honest I wasnt particularly taken by his new wife. She was, well, rather on the hefty side.
What on earth did you see in her? I asked, unable to bite my tongue.
Richard beamed and replied, She keeps the place immaculate and cooks a Sunday roast that would make your nan weep. And, most importantly, she leaves me in peace! I can have a pint, watch the footie, or nip down to the local with the boys no bother at all. Shes the perfect woman. Doesnt nag me about anything.
Well, I must say, I was somewhat taken aback. For me, a wife is something altogether different. Of course, being handy in the kitchen and keeping the house tidy are lovely perks. But the most important bit is that we actually adore each other.
Some blokes, I suppose, just want spotless surfaces and a slap-up meal. As for me, Id much rather my wife and I were on the same wavelength a proper partnership. Mutual respect, a bit of understanding, and sharing the same interests go a long way, if you ask me. We can both cook, we can both do the hoovering. Thats what my wife and I end up doing most weekends, actually.
Its a bit like riding a tandem bicycle if youre both pedalling in the same direction, youve got a much better chance of getting somewhere worthwhile without ending up in a hedge.
What do you reckon am I right?
