When You Think About It
by Jeff Oaks
Most of marriage is managing comfort and discomfort in such a way you can live with a person who steals half of everything you buy. You have agreed to steal half back of whatever he or she buys of course. You make each other cry occasionally, and if that’s all you’ve got, you’ve got a problem. Most of crying is embarrassment, as most of the river is other people’s dirt. Most of work is waiting. Almost nothing sold can stay. Staying around is after all mostly not having anywhere else to go. There are two minutes of terrible pain before loading or emptying the dishwasher or the washing machine, and then the rest is mostly reassembling an old kitchen you remember. Before the in-laws for the children for the strangers throwing rice into your freshly cut hair.