Now that we are approaching the two year mark, I have been putting some thought into the journey so far. We have certainly grown as a couple and in addition to all the small changes that one should really expect in a marriage, there were a couple that I at least did not. One of them was to do with our mail. And I am not referring here to the change in address from my maiden name to my married name even though as we both know I have been lazy and tight and therefore haven’t actually forked over the cash to change this officially yet. I resent the fact that I have to pay for a 2nd marriage certificate first to prove that I have wed because the marriage certificate that was issued when we actually got married is not sufficient but I digress…
As much as people might wish it were different, we are not yet a paperless society and as such, we still receive correspondence via the post. In our household though, since I tend to be the one who is home last, I rarely get the task of checking the mailbox. You on the other hand often bring in the mail, some of which is addressed to me. Now one might be forgiven for thinking that when this is the case then dear wife, “you’ve got mail” but personally I have found that more often than not it’s really the case of honey, don’t you know, “you’ve got ‘male’”. On repeated occasions I have found important letters in the middle of a whole stack of other paraphernalia, underneath the couch and even beside the toilet. Its like you bring mail into the house without looking at it and put it down next to the first thing you do and forget about it. You certainly don’t let me know we have received it. You just leave it to me to find, if I’m lucky, whilst I live in the hope that nothing scary like a final reminder notice is lurking amongst a pile of junk mail catalogues that I forget to double check before turfing into the recycling. I don’t understand the difficulty in always putting mail in the same location so I am sure to see it – our homes have never been that big that this should be a chore – but apparently it is beyond your skill set.
And then there is the mail that you take marginally more attention of and do actually open yourself, regardless of the addressee. If it looks at all interesting you seem to figure that by rights, you should be entitled to open it. Unfortunately for you Dear Husband, your wife does not agree. Chalk it down to my crazy desire to maintain some semblance of independence or personal identity in our marriage but I happen to be of the opinion that mail addressed to me alone is actually mine. Not yours. And despite the fact that you would never be convicted in a million years for opening my mail, its actually illegal for you to do so which means that you should not do it. I am not of the opinion that I have to be present for you to open any correspondence that is addressed to both of us (I think that’s a bit much) but I do kind of like the idea of being able to open my own presents. And no matter what you may think, there is no way that opening a cylindrical container over 40cms in height that was delivered to the door and addressed solely to me was something you opened by “accident”.
Your Loving Wife
* Photo taken at stupid o’clock in the morning at a Balloon Festival early last year – i.e. not this month.