Thursday
Apr242008
An Unsolicited Letter
Thursday, April 24, 2008 at 08:46PM 
Dear Bride-to-Be,I know you are busy, so busy you don’t really have time to read this letter of unsolicited advice. There is the guest list, seating chart, and the honeymoon to plan. I’ve noticed the packages arriving daily and can’t imagine how many thank you notes you need to write.
Believe me, I know about busy. Up at three a.m. to feed the baby, change her diaper and then her clothes (once she’s thrown up all over my clothes) leaves me barely enough time to brush my teeth. But let’s not go down that path right now. This is not what you want to hear while picking out your brand new white dress, which should never encounter such stains as regurgitated bananas.
Today, I offer just a few words of pre-marital advice. No bride wants to hear how marriage really is, especially after the Visa bill comes in for the wedding. Don’t get me wrong, I love being married. But there are just a few household issues I should have addressed before my walk down the aisle.
Let’s start with the bedroom. Did you know that snoring patterns increase exponentially once the ring is on your finger? You laugh and think, ‘His little sniffles and snorts are so cute now and, heck, I barely notice them.’ Trust me, Clan of the Cave Bear is not going to be so cute in a couple of months. Start with the no-snore nasal strips. If those don’t work, push for the snoring surgery while you still have cleavage as leverage.
And what about your new office, the kitchen? When you toss your bouquet, they should hand you a frying pan. It took me a long time to learn that when my husband asked if we had food in the house, he was not offering to go to the grocery store, but whether there was dinner in the oven. May I suggest a couples’ culinary class? If that doesn’t work, hypnosis sessions of ‘I love to cook and think my wife should never cook’ might be just the ticket.
And finally, let’s address the bathroom and what we can learn in the potty. Beware of the pink double lines on the dipstick. While some people might find a pre-marital pregnancy morally irresponsible, my objections are purely practical. Yes to preggers means no to the bachelorette party. No last hurrah washed down with a shot of tequila and a cha-cha with the young hottie on the dance floor.
My biggest pre-marital-pregnancy-problem was my dress, the most important part of the wedding. Sadly, I can barely remember my original wedding dress. I was in the Beverly Hills dressing room crying hysterically as the zipper ripped, and then ‘Poof,’ as if my fairy godmother appeared, it disappeared from my memory. My second dress, a beaded extravaganza bought at the last minute, worked fine, thanks to a multitude of spandex undergarments and, of course, my tiara. I wanted to be a princess before I became a queen. I have to admit my look was grand as I ascended to my throne in the kingdom of Mommyland.
But enough about me and my silly little insights. Can I help you with your seating chart? Are you sure you want to seat your soon-to-be-mother-in-law next to your jealous single girlfriend?
Best wishes,
The Nosy Neighbor
Believe me, I know about busy. Up at three a.m. to feed the baby, change her diaper and then her clothes (once she’s thrown up all over my clothes) leaves me barely enough time to brush my teeth. But let’s not go down that path right now. This is not what you want to hear while picking out your brand new white dress, which should never encounter such stains as regurgitated bananas.
Today, I offer just a few words of pre-marital advice. No bride wants to hear how marriage really is, especially after the Visa bill comes in for the wedding. Don’t get me wrong, I love being married. But there are just a few household issues I should have addressed before my walk down the aisle.
Let’s start with the bedroom. Did you know that snoring patterns increase exponentially once the ring is on your finger? You laugh and think, ‘His little sniffles and snorts are so cute now and, heck, I barely notice them.’ Trust me, Clan of the Cave Bear is not going to be so cute in a couple of months. Start with the no-snore nasal strips. If those don’t work, push for the snoring surgery while you still have cleavage as leverage.
And what about your new office, the kitchen? When you toss your bouquet, they should hand you a frying pan. It took me a long time to learn that when my husband asked if we had food in the house, he was not offering to go to the grocery store, but whether there was dinner in the oven. May I suggest a couples’ culinary class? If that doesn’t work, hypnosis sessions of ‘I love to cook and think my wife should never cook’ might be just the ticket.
And finally, let’s address the bathroom and what we can learn in the potty. Beware of the pink double lines on the dipstick. While some people might find a pre-marital pregnancy morally irresponsible, my objections are purely practical. Yes to preggers means no to the bachelorette party. No last hurrah washed down with a shot of tequila and a cha-cha with the young hottie on the dance floor.
My biggest pre-marital-pregnancy-problem was my dress, the most important part of the wedding. Sadly, I can barely remember my original wedding dress. I was in the Beverly Hills dressing room crying hysterically as the zipper ripped, and then ‘Poof,’ as if my fairy godmother appeared, it disappeared from my memory. My second dress, a beaded extravaganza bought at the last minute, worked fine, thanks to a multitude of spandex undergarments and, of course, my tiara. I wanted to be a princess before I became a queen. I have to admit my look was grand as I ascended to my throne in the kingdom of Mommyland.
But enough about me and my silly little insights. Can I help you with your seating chart? Are you sure you want to seat your soon-to-be-mother-in-law next to your jealous single girlfriend?
Best wishes,
The Nosy Neighbor
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