What Your Married Friends Neglected to Tell You

Welcome to the club. You’re gonna need a guest room and ear plugs.

Lori Welch Brown
The Haven

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Photo by Marc A. Sporys on Unsplash

Guuurrrrllll, congratulations! Welcome to the club! You’re finally doing it! We are soooooo happy for ya’ll!

This was the common refrain from all my married friends. I waited until I was 48 to walk down the aisle for the first (and hopefully only) time. An old maid by most standards, maybe a little gun shy, maybe a lot commitment phobe. Or maybe just really smart as some of my more cynical, aka recently divorced, friends noted.

My married friends offered lots of advice pre-big day such as where to register (Pottery Barn, girl!), where not to honeymoon (Aruba = super pricey), and where to spend the reception money (no one remembers the food).

What they neglected to tell me is what happened once I joined the club.

Husbands ask a lot of questions.

I begin each day now with a barrage of questions that continue from sun up to sun down. Where’s my phone? Have you seen my keys? Is the washer empty? Can I put some stuff in it? Have you seen Dozer? Did you let Dozer out? Where’s his leash? What are we having for dinner? What time do you want to

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