dailydiatribes

Warning:  If you are a male or are in the process of becoming one, this entry may offend you. 

Marriage is the hardest thing I have ever done, especially since I married a man. There is just no other way to phrase it; we all know it's true:  Men Suck!!!  To be fair, maybe it's not just men, maybe it's the whole institution of marriage. 

Let's examine the average marriage.  For starters, why do we get married?  It's not a biblical thing or a cultural thing; we get married because we want to have lots of sex and if you get married, it's more legitimate.  When I was young, sex sounded great.  All sorts of people were having sex and I wanted to get in on the action.  So I met a guy and we proceeded to have sex.

But here is the crucial difference between men and women:  after that first time, I was good.  For women, having sex is kind of like bungee jumping, or eating kim chee, or reading War and Peace.  You want to do it so you can say you've done it and then it's time to move on to the next thing.  Men, however, want to continue having sex multiple times per week, if not actually per hour.

"Remember when we used to do it more than once a day?" my husband will ask me wistfully.  "Yeah, I remember," I tell him, as I shove him to one side.  "Back when my boobs were pointing north and the hair on your head hadn't migrated to your nostrils yet!!"

And that's not even factoring in my children hanging on me ALL DAY LONG!!!  By the end of the day, I don't want anyone to touch me!  George Clooney could appear in my bedroom wearing the Batman mask and nothing else, and I would still tell him to get off of me because Desperate Housewives is on and it's a new episode.

Here's another thing:  Men are not by nature helpful creatures.  I often tell my husband that if he did even half of what I ask him to do in an average day, I would probably be a lot more willing.  We have been married 15 years and he has yet to actually comprehend that. 

I am sure some of you are reading this, shaking your heads, saying "but my Ralph does everything I ask him to do!"  Well, let me clue you in on something:  Ralph is gender confused.  He is not really a man, he is actually a woman with a penis.  Seek a sex change operation for him immediately and invest in a good vibrator.

Seriously, I know there are some exceptions, but on the whole, many many many men are still defining their wives with criteria established in the 1950's by that bitch Donna Reed!  I'm sure most of you have seen the email that circulates every so often with tips for housewives in the 1950's.  The one that says make sure the house is quiet when he comes home from work and keep the children quiet and do your hair and makeup so he doesn't come home to a frumpy wife. 

Here are the rules for the millenium:

1.  I have borne your children

2.  I care for your children

3.  I take your children to:  dance, soccer practice, football practice, scouts, piano lessons, gymnastics, competition bowling, the doctor, the barber, the dentist and the grocery store.  Make your own damn dinner!!

4.  I will engage in sexual activity once a week, unless it is a special occasion or I need something from you.  Otherwise, don't ask!

5.  I will clean the house when someone visits; otherwise, don't ask!!

6.  If you want the kids to be quiet when you get home, buy me a bigger roll of duct tape.

7.  If you want me to have makeup on when you get home, it better be because you are taking me out to an expensive dinner, with no expectation of sex afterward.

8.  If you want someone to bring you your newspaper and slippers, get yourself a cocker spaniel.

9.  I am not cleaning up after the damn dog; I clean up after everybody else around here.

10.  If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!

I think these are reasonable rules to set for a household.  We would all get along so much better if our husbands would just follow these rules.  Unfortunately, men expect us to work all day, cook, clean and then do the sex kitten routine in the bedroom.  After putting in a full day at work, a man comes home, sits down, puts his feet up and asks where dinner is.  A woman puts in a full day of work, comes home, cooks dinner, does the dishes, bathes the kids, puts them to bed, washes clothes, makes lunches and then sits down.  Then the jackass has the nerve to ask her if she's in the mood!!!!  Yeah, in the mood for a little axe murdering!!

Most women I know think it would be much easier to raise children with another woman.  The only obstacle is the lack of a penis, but hey, these days even that can be easily rectified.  Better living through plastics (and some vinyl for that realistic texture....and I can see Julie blushing through the computer!!!!!!!)  Seriously, after a couple of months, the sex organs actually atrophy from lack of use and then it becomes a non issue.  You raise the kids with Helen, then when they leave home, you get a couple of cats and knit sweaters together into your golden years.  Sounds like a good plan to me!

I love my husband, I have a good life and I know the grass is always greener on the other side.  But sometimes I look at Ellen DeGeneres and think, well, she may be on to something here!  Except for the sex part, it might be a good deal.  I'll let y'all know if I decide to run away with the mail lady.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go starch my apron and put my pearls on so I'll look nice when Tim comes home.  I just hope the blood comes out of the apron....