My husband, Tyler, thinks that I have the most mixed up priorities in the world, but I disagree. I believe that there’s no greater thing a wife can do for her husband than to save their marriage.
“Carly, we don’t need a four bedroom house,” he said to me this morning as we were getting ready to meet with our real estate agent for the first time. “Three bedrooms are plenty.”
He’s wrong. Three bedrooms aren’t enough. Sure, it’s just the two of us right now, but we eventually plan on having a couple of kids so we’ll need a bedroom for Tyler and me, a room for each of our kids, and a guest room.
“We’ll just get a pull-out couch and have our guests sleep on that,” he said.
“Think of the last time you slept on someone’s couch,” I said to him. “Did you enjoy having people stare at you from the dining room while they ate their morning toast? Why would you want to put your parents through that, or my parents for that matter?”
“Fine, I’ll agree to four bedrooms but dual vanities in the master bath is frivolous. We’ve gotten by with only one sink so far. Come to think of it, having a master bath seems pretty extravagant as well.”
“So you’re fine with spitting on me while we’re both in there brushing our teeth? It hasn’t happened yet but it’s just a matter of time; which means that it’s also a matter of time before you spit on our children if we settle for only one bath. Why would you be okay with that?”
Tyler conceded that dual vanities and a master bathroom were a must, but convincing him a craft room was necessary took some work.
“Unless you want glitter and sequins flying in front of you while you watch television, then I suggest you reconsider your stance on craft rooms.”
Tyler then relented on the condition that he got a man cave. I wanted to argue that; I mean, shouldn’t he want to be with me every moment of the day? But then I remembered that I certainly don’t want to be with him every moment of the day; especially when his beer drinking, poker playing buddies are over. Plus compromise is a big part of marriage, so I gave him his man cave.
“Don’t you think we’re going a bit overboard expecting three thousand square feet and move-in ready for our first house?” he then asked.
“A happy wife equals a happy life,” I responded.
Tyler may think that the things I want are stupid, but how is sparing us the nightmare of renovations or the expense of moving every seven years stupid? That makes me his dream wife as far as I’m concerned, and by the time this house hunting process is over, I will have the dream house and the dream life I deserve.