In a perfect world I wouldn’t promise my future wife the moon. I’d give it to her before she even asked.
In a perfect world, I would be living on the moon. Granted, that stretches the boundaries of where the perfect world begins and ends, but the point is, I’d have a nice little thatch-roof cottages nearby a crater I’d irrigated to make into a kind of homey pond, which I’d dip my feet in every day and laugh, and enjoy the serenity of the place, and just look down at Earth and sigh with nostalgia, and then at some point I’d start squinting and staring at a small object that seemed like it was flying towards me, and…yes! Yes it is flying towards me! It’s a twenty-something year old man!
“Damn it!” I would say, fearing that my chosen loneliness had been breached, and I would be correct, because he would then arrive, and without even consulting me, would take the moon and with much grunting and straining (which I would be glad to help him with had he used some manners in the first place), present his bride with the moon, who would only see the kindness and sweetness in such an offering, failing to take into account the now grumpy man sitting atop her prized gift, his beautiful pond sloshed everywhere and the contents of his house all shook up.
So, think things through before you make these perfect world wishes, buster.
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Notify me of new posts via email.
Follow on Twitter
Like This on Facebook
Tell Me Your Future Wife
Type your email to be told about more posts.
Join 24 other followers