It all began innocently enough. I invited some of our happily married friends over for a home-cooked dinner and to play my own personalized version of "The Newlywed Game." Now I'm no game-show host, but it was always one of my favorite television shows growing up and especially cherished were the occasions the wife would bonk the doufus husband on the head with her answer card.
Would my dining room table tolerate all this excitement? My mind began racing, thinking up fun questions.
Every couple I invited rsvp'd fast and furiously "Uh... No thanks!" Could the reputation of my culinary skills really spread so far and wide?
But with the first telltale phone call, it began to dawn on me that it wasn't just bad food.
Wife No. 1: Hi, we're flattered to be included on your guest list, but Manny made me call to make sure you're NOT gonna have a question about which of my girlfriends he fantasizes about?
Me: Manny! Seriously? I don't know about that question, but now I'm certainly going to include one about how a guy makes it through life named "Manny." He should have married someone named "Wifey." Then the Justice of Peace could have said, "I now pronounce you Manny and Wifey."
Wife No. 1: Yeah, we're gonna have to decline. Click.
Hmmph. As I hung up I told myself there would be absolutely no questions about other partner fantasies.
The evening arrived and I served soup, salad, and chicken with choice of baked or mashed potatoes and already there was an issue. I asked Husband No. 2 (while his wife was in the bathroom) if he thought she might prefer her potato whole or whipped. He glared at me and said, "I know what potato is a euphemism for! And we're not staying for your raunchy little game." He snatched his wife's purse (and I presume he snatched his wife's potato as well!) and violently slammed the front door.
"Well," I said, resisting the urge to do my evil laugh. "I guess we're down to you three lucky couples." Everyone squirmed awkwardly in their seats. (But that might be because my uncomfortable dining room chairs which are pictured at the bottom of this piece.)
When dessert was served I invited the couples to move their chairs in pairs with their backs to one another so there could be no cheating. I gave each person a slice of pie, took my seat with my fiancé, and hoped for the best.
Me: Okay first question. We'll start out easy. Wives -- What's your favorite thing right now on your mate?"
Answers were "his wedding band" and "this shirt I bought for him" and "Old Spice cologne." But Wife No. 4 responded enthusiastically, "Nuts!" When questioned, she sheepishly admitted she thought I asked, "favorite thing right now on your plate?" And she adored my pecan pie.
Me: Moving right along. Husbands, when you first met your future mother-in-law you thought to yourself, 'Genetics aren't everything. I can live with my wife even if her ___________ grows.'
Answers ranged from "hair" to "nose" to "butt" with one husband wanting to ensure he got a little something/something later on, so he wrote down, "heart."
So far, so good.
Me: Husbands again -- if your wife could be compared to a cereal, which one would she be?
Again, the men came through as romantics with "Lucky Charms" and "Special K" (the wife was named Kay!) and "Sugar Smacks" (his wife was rumored to be into BDSM) My fiancé dared to answer, "Cracklin' Nutty Flakey Oat Bran" but I wisely chose to let it go.
Me: If your first kiss with your spouse could be described as a candy, what would it be?
Clever, clever guys. Answers were "Starburst" and "Hot Tamales" and "Bar None." One husband said "Pay Day" then changed it to a "100 Grand bar" but the wife thought he was inferring she was a hooker and stomped out of our house, followed by her man wailing plaintively, "But wasn't that better than saying, Snickers or Butterfingers??"
At this point my fiancé said he was getting tired and had early morning appointments with patients and could I wrap things up? So of course I decided to throw in a question about that. "If your husband was a doctor, what would he specialize in?" Fiancé immediately sauntered out of the room yawning, in search of his toothbrush. Oh well.
Five minutes later I lost yet another couple when I queried, "Who would you say wears the pants in the family?" I didn't think being a cross-dresser would ever come up.
The last remaining husband and wife stared me down as I braced myself for the worst.
Husband No. 1: We've waited all night to hear you ask which of her girlfriends I fantasize about being with.
Wife No. 1: Yeah, C'mon! It's the whole reason we came. We thought it would be a great way to start up a threesome!
Naturally.
For other relationship humor, check out the author's blog right HERE.
These are the chairs my happily married guests were forced to sit on all night long as I grilled them with questions!