If I could give just one piece of advice to a couple thinking about getting married, it would be this: Do not, DO NOT marry someone who doesn’t make you laugh.
Yes, they should have goals and yes, they should be caring. Yes, they should have similar ideas about kids and things that you do, and yes, the sex should be good. Yes, they should be honest and yes, you should be ok with the fact that one of you is going to end up looking after the other one during some very difficult times. But if the partner in question isn’t able to make you laugh, if you guys don’t share a sense of humour about the ridiculousness that is the world we live in, the marriage is going to be tough going indeed.
Kids. Take kids, for example. Listening to your five year old tell you that you are the worst mother EVER because you made him pick up his books sucks. But it’s totally tolerable if your spouse is making over-dramatized faces at you behind said five year old’s head. Watching a two year old turn into a puddle of screaming monster goo is stupid. But it quickly becomes hilarious if your spouse turns to you, and with a deadpan face says “But Ezmy, she wanted to eat the tin of tomato paste.”
Humour is the key to a successful marriage because it’s a sign you married your best friend. With this in mind, I draw your attention to how A. and I have been spending our evenings as of late. We’ve created this parent cave on the lower level of the house, you see, and it’s just the best. I’m knitting, and he’s playing video games. And video game playing always leads to certain small exchanges, which are hilarious to me. They may not be funny to you, but that doesn’t matter because you haven’t been married to the awesomest man for five years as of tomorrow. I have.
Scene: A. and I are living the high life in our parent cave. A. is playing ‘Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag’. Ezmy has been making fun of the fact that this game includes the collection, nay, the chasing down of sea shanties. Little scraps of paper with shanties, SHANTIES, float around and A. chases them. Anyway…
A.: *picking up from previous evening conversations about sea shanties* “See, the thing about the shanty song is that it substitutes a soundtrack.”
A.: “Otherwise it’s just boat sounds.”
A.: “Is that what you want? Boat sounds? Eh? Ooooh listen, it’s the sound of jibs…and ropes.”
Ezmy: “Those are all the boat words you know aren’t they.”
A.: “A keel. I think that’s a thing.”
Happy five years, A. I love you the mostest.