I was lying in bed this morning, drinking coffee and watching the morning news. They had a segment about reality TV star and polygamist Kody Brown, together with his four wives. Thinking about it, I started to grin. That lucky bastard. That’s when the Nordic Warrior Queen saw me smiling and backhanded me, spilling my coffee.
Just think about it. Four women at your beck and call. What a life. With all those women around, this guy never has to vacuum the floor, or shake out a rug. His meals are served promptly, and even though he has enough children for a baseball team, he never has to change a diaper or get up in the night to care for a barfing kid.
And the sex. Jesus. This guy doesn’t even know what a dry spell is. No more, “Not tonight, dear, I have a headache.” If he heard something like, all he’d have to do is go down the hall. And think about all the possibilities: girl-girl, three-ways, tag-teams, and boy-girl-girl-girl-girl. You’d have to get a bigger bed.
I’ll bet he doesn’t get much sleep.
But then I started thinking about it. You’d have four women telling you to take out the trash. Four women telling you to change the furnace filter, or wash the car. Four women telling you that you drink too much beer. Four times as many chick-flicks to watch.
And you wouldn’t dare get mad at one of them, because then you’d have four pissed-off women in the house. And you know they’d gang up on you. You’d never get a moment’s peace.
Worse, I’ve heard that when women live together, their periods become synchronized. Just imagine – four menstruating, screaming, ranting females, all out for your head at the same time. You’d have to move out for one week a month.
That poor bastard.
On second thought, I’ll stick with one wife. She’s enough to handle already.
I’m sorry, dear; you’re right, I’m a pig. Do I still have to sleep on the couch tonight?