Marriage is like a bar of chocolate

I just hung up the phone. Again. Seems when I go out of town and come back home, I always have a full voice mailbox. Keep in mind, I have many regular callers—three brothers and a sister, several aunts, a doting father who I don't talk to nearly enough and a mother who called several times to tell me she found someone who would like to have my furniture.

The messages I received from my mother were almost as great as the one I mention below because Mom found someone who wanted my old furniture. She called to let me know that they wanted to be sure the furniture was indeed free and they also wanted to know if I could deliver it to them too. Sure Mom. I'll get right on that. Right after I bench press five hundred pounds or so.  

This was the weekend for phenomenal messages and they were wide ranging. From the ordinary to the outlandish, I heard from everyone in one weekend. Okay, so Brad Pitt didn't call, or Johnny Depp, but they will. I just know it.

I didn't want for surprising, if not entertaining, messages. In fact, a friend of mine from "way back" as we sometimes say here in the south called to tell me that she "hated" being married. I know, imagine such a thought. Puh-lease!

Okay, so can I see a show of hands out there? Who knows what this woman is feeling? Sure, if you've been married for longer than twenty minutes, you qualify. If you married in Vegas after a drunken stupor, then you definitely feel her pain. Raise that arm high. In my humble opinion, after a few days with the same man, on occasion there is a fine line between love and hate. With hate being the stronger of the two when things don't go my way. Sorry honey, but after 17 years, you kind of expected me to feel this way—right?

In any event, she wanted to let me know that first of all, her mother-in-law was a (as she put it) "bee-atch" and if she'd "only been forewarned", she would've never looked at her husband in a "zillion" years. She even went as far as too say the "D" word loomed and if she ever broke the ties that "bind" that she would intentionally go through a dating service the next time around. She would find one where women were given an opportunity to meet their potential in-laws before they met the man in question.

The "second of all" comment followed thereafter and it was loaded with misguided blame. "Someone should've told me…you should've told me…that marriage wasn't what it's cracked up to be."

Her entire message took three "slots" to complete because the voice mail would cut off and she would call back to continue her rant. Each time she called, her words of fast wisdom left me with a few more laughs. By the time the third message sounded off, it was safe to say I was ROFL, yes that's text-language mumbo-jumbo for rolling on the floor. Teary-eyed and all, I had a good laugh.

By the time I waded through a little more voicemail hell, I heard my friend's voice again. This time, it was softer and held an edge of mysterious humor in it.  She said, "I just wanted to let you know that I talked to my father-in-law. He talked to my mother-in-law who has reached the decision that she is never going to talk to me again. Call me. This is good."

So, I called. In fact, I couldn't dial the number fast enough.

She sighed as soon as she heard my voice. "Yes, I hate marriage. I hate being married and I'm glad you were out of town because this is something I needed to work through on my own. You know, stand on my own two feet. Accept my fate as I determined it and take the good with the bad."

I knew what she meant. The good was the mind-boggling oogled-eyed sex she often chatted about and the bad was the "bee-atch" that she definitely knew well before she said "I do" but I didn't remind her of the obvious. Instead, I agreed with a "Yes, Well, I'm glad I was able to help you out."

My friend wasn't amused. "This isn't a laughing matter. This has been a very rough weekend for me. I was ready for a divorce and you didn't answer your phone, my brother said he'd win a bet if I divorced within twenty-four months so he offered very little help and that left only one option."

I couldn't wait to hear the lone choice.

"So I talked to my father-in-law. He reminded me that the grass is always greener on the other side but in marriages, any marriage, you have to look at the person you marry as just another nut waiting to be cracked."

I told her I didn't quite get it. The joke or whatever point she wanted to make just didn't quite "nudge me silly", or "get my goose," if you know what I mean.  

She continued. "Well, you see, my husband's father was married several times before he settled down to raise a family with wife number five. He said, after trying it five times, and reading everything ever written on marriage and relationships, he felt he was ready for the life commitment.

You know, the one that didn't include divorce.

He started off marriage number five by visiting countless marriage counselors. He also explained before he did, he sought and received information about living a celibate life. Now, he prefers literature about Viagra—though my friend doesn't understand why given his choice partner. Still, he said a long time ago, he decided marriage was a lot like chocolate. You love it when you bite in, but after you chew, swallow, and digest, the extra weight isn't always worth that first sweet bite."

My friend went on to say that there was a moral to the story and after typing this, I clearly understood. "If marriage comes with marriage counselors, books about happy relationships, Viagra literature which is obviously a good indicator there are certain issues to be addressed (when the only trouble is truly the partner), and a celibate-life consideration, then it's safe to say that marriages often are like a bar of chocolate…just full of nuts!"

Fortunately, this week, my friend stays dedicated to her vows and is much happier with the choices she made in a mate. Her mother-in-law still isn't speaking to her but that's okay because she understands better now. After all, she considers her a true pecan or maybe she referred to her as a walnut but it's not that important. After all, a nut is a nut, anyway you crack it. My friend's father-in-law thinks she hung the moon and her husband thinks his father is right…my friend is a lot like chocolate. After all, when my friend told her husband the story, the first thing he told her was the obvious. "And you think this is the first time I've heard this tale? Not quite peanut. Not quite."