Contract for a Happy Marriage

By Helen Ellis

This agreement, made November 9, 2001, is a living document, the terms of which may be changed at any time at the sole discretion of the party of the first part (hereafter known as "Mr.") and the party of the second part (hereafter known as "Mrs.").

Mr. will go to the theatre with Mrs. on the condition that the run time is under ninety minutes without intermission, or the show features full-frontal nudity or stars Laurie Metcalf. No more brunches or "going to see a baby." No vow renewals, surprise parties, or "over the top" attempts at seduction (amendment implemented after the 2002 candlelit rose-petal path that Mr. found "so spooky" that he backed out of the apartment and asked a doorman to investigate).

Thanksgiving is for listening to "Alice's Restaurant" on WFUV and putting up the Christmas tree. Christmas is for going to the movies. New Year's Eve is for going to bed early. No "doing" anything for the summer. No churchgoing, but also don't put anything in front of Yiayia's religious icon on the second shelf in Mr.'s closet.

Owing to an influx of stickers, the glitter drawer has been downsized to share a craft box with ink pads and rubber stamps. If a cleaning tool has not been used in twelve months since purchase, it will be disposed of (cf. the Wet Pet Suck Vac of 2020 and the Four Piece Hardwood Floor Care System of 2018). If an "annual" gathering of more than fifty guests is not thrown for a third consecutive year, ten boxes of wineglasses will be removed from the storage bin and donated to charity. Same goes for the red Igloo coolers. The Bed Bath & Beyond plastic bucket with a price sticker that says "tub ass" will be kept for sentimental reasons.

Don't-Let-Me-See-How-You-Got-Rid-of-It-Just-Get-Rid-of-It Amendment: If Mr. must throw away an item that belongs to Mrs., he must do so out of her line of sight. (Cf. the 2017 flood-stained rugs needlepointed by Grandpapa; the 2021 cat-piss-soaked curtain that was more expensive to dry-clean than to replace; three framed posters purchased in Athens in 2002 that are of Greek translations of "classic" American movies now seen as "problematic"; and a nine-hundred-and-ninety-seven-piece jigsaw puzzle.)

Casseroles are limited in production because of 2016 high-cholesterol scores. Salads are in, but that yellow salad dressing is out. Fondue is out. Crumbled goat cheese on everything is out. Potato chips for dessert is encouraged. Since the 2015 kitchen renovation, the cabinets to the left and right of the oven have become warped from heat, the walls stained with cat-food juice because both parties opted for matte paint instead of glossy, and there is a crack in a floor tile—which both parties have agreed not to discuss—so the Anti-Splatter Amendment of 2015 has been repealed and orange chicken is back on the menu. Owing to the success of Three-Cake Week in 2022, Mr. will bake a box cake when Mrs. is "feeling forlorn."

Because-I’m-Worth-It Amendment: If a pandemic lockdown reaches a two-month mark, Mr. will dye Mrs.'s gray roots. Mrs. agrees not to sob uncontrollably during this process, nor afterward complain that the hair on the top of her head is so much darker than what's below her ears that she looks like she's wearing a ski cap. She further agrees not to point out brunette splotches on the shower curtain and wallpaper. She will verbalize a "thank you" and acknowledge that Mr. "did his best."

After finishing the daily Times crossword puzzle on the toilet, Mrs. will not mike-drop her pen on the bathroom floor, leaving it there for Mr. to step on, barefoot, when he pees in the middle of the night. Mr. agrees to clip his nails with the bathroom door shut but is allowed to floss his teeth "free range" while watching "his Danish shows" on Netflix.

While watching TV as a couple, Mr. agrees to fast-forward, mute, and narrate the "gross stuff" for Mrs. in exchange for Mrs. rubbing his feet in the presence of housewives, house hunters, haunted-house hunters, hoarders, and nineteen-seventies sitcom stars turned celebrity chefs. No subtitles for Southern accents. No scenes from next week. Crying is to be expected from Mr. and accepted by Mrs. when Mr. rewatches "Saturday Night Fever" or any episode from the first two seasons of "Friday Night Lights."

Made-for-TV Clause: If the life story of the signees is adapted for the small screen, Mr. gets to cast the actor who plays him. Current contenders include Christopher Meloni, Stanley Tucci, Don Cheadle, and Brian Tyree Henry. In exchange, Mr. agrees that Mrs. may take one photograph of him a year "doing something he doesn't normally do, for her amusement." (Cf. 2006 photograph of Mr. in a naked-torso apron; 2015 photograph of Mr. perched atop a sculpture of a gigantic snail; and 2011 photograph of Mr. "smelling the roses.")

Addendum: As of April 8, 2022, Mr. is released from his photograph obligation for a period of two years because, unprompted, Mr. took a photograph of himself on the Hollywood Walk of Fame beside Joan Collins's star.

Let-It-Sit-Like-a-Hot-Roast Clause: Both parties agree to stop each other from replying to e-mails in a manner that will "make them look like the crazy one."

Rip-It-Off-Like-a-Band-Aid Clause: Both parties agree that when one of them comes home from a doctor's appointment with a Band-Aid, the other gets to rip it off.

Alien-Invasion Clause: If U.F.O.s attack, both parties agree to walk out of their apartment building and be "taken."

Serial-Killer Clause: If a box of "souvenirs" is found, said souvenirs will be turned over to the police.

Catchphrase Clause: Each party may mockingly repeat what the other one says. For example, Mr. may say, "Can you imagine?," "Tell me everything," and "Enjoyable!" And Mrs. may say, "That sounds like a personal problem," and "Fair enough."

Mr. agrees to quit telling Mrs. what time it is on an hourly basis. Mr. agrees to quit telling Mrs. how much he weighs on a daily basis. Mr. agrees to quit asking Mrs. what smells so bad, if and when he smells something bad, because the answer is always the same: the cat pooped in the tub.

Mrs. "will do her best" not to scream like she's on a roller coaster when—to her surprise—Mr. enters a room. Mrs. agrees to quit saying, "What?!" in the tone of a woman expecting news of the apocalypse when Mr. asks her, "Guess what?" Mrs. agrees to quit asking "Did you?" As in:

Mrs.: "Did you lock the front door?"

Mr.: "Yes."

Mrs.: "Did you?"

Talking to dogs on the street is out; talking to cats in the apartment will be tolerated. Talking to babies on the street is out; talking to babies on Zoom is "O.K. for now." Talking to airplane seatmates is out, unless Mr. is in the middle seat and being "engaged with" by a stranger and needs Mrs. to "put a stop to it." No sampling flavors at ice cream parlors—"just roll the dice."

Both parties agree to and are comfortable with the fact that it's too late for them to learn a second language or understand what "alternate-side parking" is.

Both parties agree to buy generic trash bags, over-the-counter drugs, and store-brand sour cream and bricks of cheddar, but pay full price for Bounty, Charmin, Tide, Dawn, Windex, Clorox, Kleenex, Scrubbing Bubbles, and Ruffles.

Mr. will do all laundry and clean the litter box. Mrs. will "handle" cat barf, cat pee outside the box, health insurance, social outings, and home intruders including but not limited to ants, roaches, spiders, flies, "house centipedes," mice, and men.

When Mr. comes home, he must announce himself with a "Hello!"

When Mr. comes into view of Mrs., she promises never to stop saying, "Handsome!"

Failure by either party to comply with any of these terms will be known as a "breach of contract." There are no penalties, but both parties promise each other never to stop trying.

Mr.________________________

Mrs._______________________

This is drawn from"Kiss Me in the Coral Lounge: Intimate Confessions from a Happy Marriage."