Thursday, January 20, 2011

10 Things A Guy Should Know....

I am 'writing' (more like copying and pasting) this post because I fell in love with this article (if that's what you would call it).  I know, I know, its corny and cheesy and guess what... I LOVE IT!  I hope someone gets a good little smile out of this because it honestly is so true.  <3

10 Things a Man Should Know About Marriage



The Proposal


You've met the right girl, second- and triple-guessed whether she's the right girl, and decided to butcher your savings. The average engagement ring is just over $4,000; be prepared to go higher, but remember that carat isn't the most important of the four Cs. Take her someplace intimate (read: not a sports stadium), look her in the eyes, and — while she gasps — realize you forgot to ask her father beforehand.


The Bachelor Party


You must placate two opposing constituencies: 1) your buddies, who want tequila and lap dances; 2) your bride, who trusts you but doesn't trust your buddies. Her concern is valid, but assure her that — even if they walk you up to the line — you won't cross it. So, where is the line? It defies description, but you'll know it when you get there. (And so will your buddies, if they're actually trustworthy.)


The Wedding


Snooze through the small decisions (ice sculptures, florists) and roll your eyes at her "wedding porn" (those dozens of bridal magazines on her side of the bed), but get involved for the guest list, location, and date. She won't think it's sexy if you're totally uninvolved. Buy the tux, don't rent; you'll need it again. The big day itself is a blur — you kiss, you dance, you shake hundreds of hands, you take her to bed... and you fall asleep from exhaustion.


The Honeymoon


You've spent the last year drowning in stress — now you can drown in champagne. And other pleasures. Just make sure that her new last name matches her passport, if that's how she's introducing herself to customs officials.


The First House


Maybe not because it seems like the safest investment right now, but because you need to live somewhere — and shouldn't squander money on rent forever. She decorates, you shrug. But you learn to use power tools, and start caring about things like "mulch." You and the wife occasionally bicker, but this, like mulch, is natural and necessary for growth.


The First Kid


Every plant you've owned has died from lack of water. How can you handle a kid? But she wants a baby, so you battle the fear. (And there are scarier things than sex every night.) Finally, she's late — and suddenly you're using those new power tool skills on a crib. Nine months later, you race to the hospital. You make it. You cry. Dad. And when you get home, you remember to water the plant.


Second Kid, First Minivan


Lacrosse practice. School plays. Homework -- You can't remember calculus. And it's been years since you've heard the words "Last Call". A Third, accidental kid. You now see eye-to-eye with Clark Griswold.


The Seven-Year Itch


You realize two things: your bank account is bigger than ever, and there are women everywhere. It wouldn't be hard- you're always on business trips, you can be discreet- but you don't scratch it. Because there's more at stake than your integrity: the kids. So instead you buy and Aston Martin, no matter how silly it look with your graying, thinning locks. Your wife smiles at the sight; she looks beautiful.


The Grandkids


Mission accomplished. The kids leave for college, graduate, wed their sweethearts. You give them hard-earned wisdom about marriage- mistakes you've made, ways to take back those mistakes- which they promptly ignore. Just like you ignored your parents. They have kids but you're not a "grandpa," because grandpas are weak and old and enjoy prune juice.


The Long Goodbyes


Prune juice is kind of delicious, huh? The grandkids get married, but this time you hold back on the advice- they'll learn on their own. You already beat the Seven-Year-Itch, so the Seventy-Year-Itch is no big deal. Semi-assisted living becomes fully assisted living, which becomes hospice. You look at your wife. Know you'd do it all over. Close your eyes. Hold her hand. This is happiness ever after.


I think I want to get this little thing framed or something because I think it is so cute.  Maybe I think its even more cute because Derek loves it just as much as me.  He'll grab it off my fridge and read it at least once every couple of weeks.  If you would like to see the cute old school pictures they show in the article click here.

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