I'm Married Now, Suckahs

Evabody told me that married life would be an adjustment. But as I sit here at 1 o'clock in the afternoon in my bathrobe with my orange juice, all I know is, my adjustment just hasn't been that bad. I mean, would you have to adjust to being asleep at 10:30 in the morning when your husband brings you a bowl of homemade cake frosting to eat? or when you are instant messaging in your pajamas at 3 p.m. while downing some little smokies? I don't think so. And what if you had your own bedside table with a drawer containing 4 lbs. of Snickers Minis and a bottle of Tums? I don't think I'd hear you complaining either.

Plus, it's not like we're one of these gag-me cheesey couples with matching hiking pants and water bottles who can never be apart. Neil is perfectly happy to wear his hiking pants while cooking up some supper in the kitchen while I wear mine in the other room to watch Beauty and the Geek 2.

Now that all the wedding stuff is over, this seems like cake. I mean, it wasn't really ideal to be ralphing in front of my fiance on the trip from Tennessee to Utah before our wedding. Or when our sheepherder sealer consistently mispronounced my name. Or when he mispronounced pornography (as phonography) for that matter. But is mentioning pornography during a marriage ceremony really a good idea anyway?

And maybe the officiator at our ring ceremony did use my mother's first name instead of mine. And maybe I did nail my 14-year-old sister in the face when I tossed my bouquet. But these were all just trivial bumps on the road to a fabulous life with a man who is just happy when I address him as "husband" because it's a step in the right direction from "dude."