But first, I’ve got to fall to one knee without face-planting and say the 4 magic words to the woman of interest. No, wait… First I’ve got to find a woman that would be willing to take the risk and say that one devastating word. What is that devastating word, you ask? Sure, “no” qualifies as devastating, but the word “yes” is the answer I’m looking for. The second she says yes is the grand moment where, metaphorically, the business has been conducted and now it’s time to sign the paperwork.
Your lives have been intertwined into one, destined for a single grave at the cemetery all because of one monosyllabic phrase that seeped through her teeth. Contrary to popular belief, being comfortable enough to fart on each other is not a great indicator of love. I firmly believe both partners will know simultaneously when it comes time to pop the question. I’ll fart on her only in the event of an ice age, just to ensure she’s warm enough to survive.
“Oh, Phyllis, lemme push gas from my ass on to you so I can prove that I love thee.”
People love to nag at me for having such a bleak view on marriage, what with using terms like “devastating” and “marriage” in the same sentence. I’d like to clarify for those naysayers that I take marriage very seriously, especially because my parents have worked out so well in their 30+ years of wonderful matrimony. I’ve always viewed dating as a trial-and-error process, not a new contract that I’m damned to fulfill until my dying day. I shouldn’t be expected to believe the very first day of a new relationship that I’m going to marry this girl sometime down the road. I’d have a better chance at predicting the Second Coming of Christ by swallowing the alphabet and shitting it out into a grammatically correct sentence.
That being said, my lucky future bride to be is sure in for one hell of a ride. I say that because I believe I’m going to be an awesome husband.
I’ve learned a lot from my father and consider him my greatest role model. Life gets tough out there, yet he has managed to maintain his loving marriage with my mother for decades. He’s everything that a husband should be: kind, caring, loving, and always putting his wife before himself. Thus far, and successfully, he has done everything in his power to avoid joining the dismal statistic that is America’s divorce rate. Whether American couples are just too damn difficult is another matter of discussion, but that’s besides the point. The point is that my father serves as the paradigm for excellent husbands. I’ve learned more from him than anything I’ve been taught in public schooling over the years.
It’s because of him that my future wife is going to have a man that she really deserves. Like him, I want to show my bride that I truly love her. I want her to know that I’m always going to be there for her, never severing the line of communication. Our love will not end on our dying days, it will continue past that.
The title of this post is not really fair because there is no possible way to measure who is the best damn husband in the world. Instead, I’m going to do the next best thing: I’m going to be the best damn husband that I possibly can be for my lovely, deserving wife. Rest assured, whoever my kids are will operate under the same principles and show nothing but love towards their significant others.
My Seven Devils 