Friday, February 17, 2012

Real and Fake

I have two husbands. It's not all Jekyll and Hyde or anything. I'm talking about two separate men who take me to dinner, watch movies with me and occasionally operate at my every beck and call. It's not some strange polyamory thing. That's not my style though I am totally obsessed with the show "Sister Wives". (Seriously! To steal words from Tina Fey, it's like watching a dog walk on it's hind legs! I'm waiting for them to do something weird or something that makes me uncomfortable, but they're so NORMAL. I mean, when you remove the whole "we sleep with the same dude" thing, of course.)

...but back to my own strange situation.

I'm not married to both dudes. I have a real husband and a fake husband. My real husband is the man that I'm actually married to. I love him like a lot. He makes me laugh all the time. He puts up with my craziness. He ignores me when I ramble on about ridiculous non-sensacle things like dogs with wings or duendacitas. He's wonderful.

Then there's the fake husband. How he came to be called that is a fantastic story. My husband and I would not be married if not for my fake husband. The fake husband and I were friends before the husband and I started dating. We all worked at the same place, and real hubby saw fake hubby and I go to lunch together a few times. He assumed we were dating and, as a result, didn't ask me out. Several weeks later, the hubster asked me at a party  if the Fake Hubby and I were official. I raised every eyebrow that I had and said "WHAT?!" That night, hubby and I became a "thing".

Fake Husband is an amazing friend. He is straight, but there has never been chemistry. He might as well be asexual. He would be my gay husband, but the whole "liking chicks" things get in the way. He does like girl drinks and chick movies. He also likes blowing things up on video games, but I'm not actually married to him, so I don't have to listen to it in the other room while I try to do more civilized things. Fake husband can be dragged to stores that real husband would endlessly whine about. It's the perfect arrangement. 

I am a lucky, lucky lady. 

And remember, it's hip to be square, kids.

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