Becky is a wife without me giving her honor or a name.  I do not make an honest woman out of her.  On the night we met, we both talked about single parenthood.  Silly woman asked me what I felt I needed most in my life, and I quickly replied: “A housewife.  Want to volunteer?”

Her reply: “Hell No!!!  Do you KNOW who I am?!”

Why, yes, silly woman…  I know EXACTLY who you are: a housewife disguised as a swinging, non-monogamous butch girl.

Sigh.  She was used to calling all the shots.  Until she met me.  And I got my housewife.  She claims she is beginning to feel like the cow I get my milk from for free!  Really?  Just because she helps with all 5 children, cooks all the meals, tries to manage the house, and take care of me through cancer?!  I just don’t get it… 🙂

A note to all of you:  when someone proposes marriage to you, they really don’t know what to make of it when you say “Ask me again in five years.”

I laugh at our roles, because she looks butch and I am femme all the way.  But, as my dear friend Eric once told me, I am very much a “dude” in my mentality.  She is in charge, which means we do whatever I say.

I write this, tongue in cheek, as we laugh together.  She asked me to marry her again last night (apparently she would prefer to actually BE my wife instead of me just calling her my Trophy Wife), and then laughed at the whole situation because Ms. Bad Girl Bad A** has become my Bi***.  She still wants to know how this happened…

Never dive headfirst into Scorpio waters, people.  You’ll either drown, or never see the shore again.