Who knew that there are really houses where a bunch of wives and kids live together with one husband...
Sister wives. For real.
I'll be honest.
I wouldn't mind having Brother Husbands...
That would be a whole different thing, really...
Chef Husband, Masseuse Husband, Cleaning Husband, Repair Husband and few other guys for ....ummm... assorted other things...
Today I went into a house being remodeled by some people I know previously owned by a Polygamist who lost his house in a foreclosure...
There were 18 bedrooms.
Mostly teensy, weensy little bedrooms...like cells in a jail.
There was a very luxe master suite area that kinda/sorta made me queasy.
All those teensy/weensy little bedrooms and THAT GREAT BIG MASTER SUITE.
There was a great big bathroom in the great big master suite.
And two or three other teensy, weensy little bathrooms scattered elsewhere through the confusing maze of the rest of the house.
Two or three bathrooms.
A GREAT BIG MASTER SUITE AND BATHROOM.
Had I been living in that house I would have had to stage a revolt to overthrow the inequality in housing arrangements.
I would have had to make posters saying stuff like "There is no 'me' in polygamy!" "Worker bees...sting back!" "Just say NO to polygamy!"
Had I been living in that house I would have had to...
Who am I kidding.
A polygamist guy would never have picked me anyway to part of his...ummm...polygamy thing.
I'm too loud.
Too unwilling to follow the whims of a polygamy master person.
And living in one of those teensy, weensy bedrooms would have given me claustrophobia.
It makes me sad and mad and just plain hostile to think of women and children in this situation.
Eighteen teensy, weensy bedrooms.
ONE GREAT BIG MASTER SUITE.
Because I'm so 'icked out', I'm gonna abandon the whole plural husband idea and just stick with Mr. Jenny. After all, he does grill a mean hot dog, rub lotion on my feet to be sweet, and vacuum. Okay. He's not that great at repairing things, true, but he is good at many...ummm...other things.
He never, ever, ever tries to make me sleep in the teensy/weensy little bedroom.
I always get to share the great big master suite with him! Just me and him...
PS. True story. I went there today. And, yes, I feel awful to think of anyone living in a situation like this. So sad to think of being lost like that in the midst of millions of people.
A December Sunday at the Christmas Tree Farm
7 hours ago