Sure, I love my husband. But I am still a simple animal, and sometimes I lose the thread. That’s when I find myself asking awkward questions, such as: Why do I need a husband, again? And if I’m going to have a husband, shouldn’t I have chosen a sturdier one, or maybe one with a fully functioning frontal lobe? Also, why do I get only one husband? Wouldn’t it be nicer to have a room full of husbands—some creative, others practical, some extremely pretty, others incredibly dexterous?
