Marriage: Because Icky Things Are Easier to Deal With When You Have a Sidekick®

 That is a homemade bandage on my cat's foot. It took two of us to apply it
and the process wasn't much fun.

Are you guys beginning to sense a trend here with my recent posts? Needy wife continually wants husband at side to tackle challenges and provide support. Let's just continue on that path, shall we?

I can distinctly remember the first time marriage made practical sense to me. I was nineteen or twenty and happened to be filling the bird feeder in my parents' backyard, daydreaming about how I'd travel to Europe someday. As my mind wandered through Italian fountains and French cheeses, I suddenly thought— "It would be really nice to have someone to go with me on my travels. Like a partner who I could do all sorts of fun stuff with. Wait a minute...is that why people get married?"

I had never thought about it from that perspective before. I'd always just sort of pictured two people playing house, keeping the cupboards filled with food, mowing the lawn when it got too high, taking annual vacations to the lake.

But a partner in crime who would have adventures with me? Now that sounded like something I'd enjoy!

My teenage epiphany realized its potential this past May when my new husband and I went to the Amalfi Coast on our honeymoon. Husband = travel buddy? Check!

However, in the months since then, I've come to understand many, many other important purposes that marriage serves. When I lost my job in October, I had a built-in financial and emotional safety net. When I had the opportunity to juggle freelance copywriting and personal writing projects, I had a cheerleader at my side, assuring me I could do it all. And this weekend, when I discovered bloody spots on the couch where my 13-year-old cat was laying, I had someone to recruit as my medical assistant.

Icky stuff is always easier to deal with when you have someone wincing next to you.

My cat had been biting his toenails or calluses or some other disgusting such thing when he got carried away and broke the skin on one of his back paw pads. Although I wanted to doctor him up because I felt bad he was injured, I also wanted to prevent him from leaving bloody footprints all over the entire house.

So with Mr. Wonderful's help, I held the unruly blob of fat kitty goodness in my lap and we wrapped him in Neosporin, tissue and surgical tape. I wish I would have taken video of him walking around with his "sock" on, because he kept trying to flick it off like someone who had toilet paper stuck to the bottom of their shoe. 

Fatty 2x4 puts the "por k" in "poor kitty." He was SO not happy with that bandage on his foot.

I can't tell you how thankful I was to have Mr. W there to help me through the incident. It deepened my respect for single parents and unattached pet owners and of course expanded my appreciation for the groom I landed.

Thank you, Mr. Wonderful for assisting me in Operation Foot Gash and for furthering my tendency toward codependency. Montycat and I owe you big time.