The Beer and the Broom


Romance of youth is what motivates a marriage to begin with. But then a working marriage is what will motivate a lifelong romance. Great words aside, a marriage is not good by default, it is not working because you signed some papers after stating “I do.”

We spent our first year of marriage 400 miles apart. This because I had to finish Law in a far away city while Don supposedly was following his engineering studies in our hometown. Ambition, as part of my learning plan, eventually gave me the ability to pick up a good positioned job, close to home. Don’s ambition remained focused on loving me, ignoring his studies for some interesting extra curricular activities or just having a good weekend time with colleagues. Beer, rock music, chatter and more beer. When I moved in, this scenario wasn’t exactly on my taste. So I refused the first invitation to such an “engineering” party. Don took Dolly with him, our English Setter. After midnight they both returned home, one following the sine and the other the cosine. Yes, the dog had a bottle of beer too! Not her fault though.

Sparing Dolly, my broom vigorously woke Don up to our marriage reality. There was no room for such parties, at least beyond a reasonable measure, and frequency. It was his house, his mother, his heritage, his everything in the material space. Yet I dared broom him for not behaving in our marriage, because the marriage was indeed OURS not his.

It paid up well: Don quit drinking and partying in order to turn into the best hubby of all times. And this, my ladies, because of the broom, swiftly applied early on, with the first occasion.

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