I watched all of Big Love (HBO’s 2006 drama about modern day polygamists starring Bill Paxton and Jeanne Tripplehorn) angry at Tom because “How could a man be such a douchebag and cheat on his wife like that?” And worse, “What kind of self-loathing woman would allow her husband to treat her that way—sleeping with four different women right under her nose while she waits obediently for him with dinner prepared and a smile on her face? Jeanne Tripplehorn you are a disgrace to women!”
Then I got married.
And holy shit…polygamy! What a fucking brilliant idea! Not only would I get my own bathroom and closet, I’d get my own house. Paid for by my husband who sends me a check every month and keeps me on his medical and dental plans. And the benefits don’t stop there.
Wait! Before you hit send that nasty email to me, hear me out.
To really make this work, I’d demand 7 wives—one for every day of the week. I’d designate Monday night my night because Mondays are already fucked because, you know, they’re Mondays. (And if my husband is sleeping with 6 different women he doesn’t deserve a weekend night anyway.)
Every week, I’d dump all of my laundry off at my sister wife’s house claiming that it’s for the “good of the family.” I’d drop my kids off with another one and guilt a third into making me dinner on nights when I’m meeting the girls out for drinks (because, come on, no one should drink on an empty stomach. Right?)
Once a week, I’d pass a Shop Rite rotisserie chicken off as my own (not too different from now), light some candles, bat my eyes and by midnight I’d send him on his way to snore and drop his morning deuce at the home of one of his other wives.
Of course I’d have to make sure my sister wives are far less attractive than me because I can’t have my husband sleeping with women who are hotter than me. And, I’d have to make sure that I don’t really like the other wives because I’d feel bad about dumping my husband’s smelly jock on the doorstep of someone I like. I’d also need to find women willing to do things that I suck at—like cooking, cleaning, ironing, scrubbing the tub, emptying the dishwasher, washing the floors and taking out the garbage. (Right now I have my husband doing all of this but at times I find his work to be subpar.)
So you see, I’m sorry Jeanne Tripplehorn. You were right to put up with Bill Paxton’s shit. Thank you for showing me how a real marriage should work. Clearly, I need to be a polygamist. Or a Real Housewife of New Jersey because I’m pretty sure I just described a day-in-the life of Teresa Guidice. Only she calls them maids.