A Recipe for a Happy Marriage

When I was a kid, my stepmother liked to fill the house with sentimental sayings designed to inspire and warm the cockles of her heart. All around the place there were witty 'Mere Male' anecdotes from 'Woman's Day', pictures of dogs playing pool and drinking beer, American Indian posters about lost tribes and hilarious poems by Pam Ayers. Generally, they made me want to puke. I found one of my stepmother's favourite sayings recently on the web and have copied it below for your viewing delight:

Recipe for a Happy Marriage

1 cup consideration

1 cup courtesy

2 cups flattery, carefully concealed

1 gallon faith and trust in each other

2 cups praise

1 small pinch of in-laws

1 reasonable budget, a generous dash of cooperation

3 teaspoon pure extract of "I'm sorry"

1 cup contentment

1 cup each of confidence and encouragement

1 large or several small hobbies

1 cup blindness to the other's faults

Flavour with frequent portions of recreation and a dash of happy memories. Stir well and remove any specks of jealousy, temper or criticism. Sweeten well with generous portions of love and keep warm with a steady flame of devotion. Never serve with cold shoulder.

*Warning* I'm about to give an honest critique of the above recipe...

WHAT A CROCK OF SHIT

I've been married for nearly 11 years now so I think I have the experience to create an updated, more realistic, honest version of this recipe... Special thanks to my co-contributor - Tim, my wonderful husband xxx

A Recipe for a Realistic Marriage*

1 cup "put the seat down"

1 cup "cook your own friggin' dinner"

2 cups of shut-up

1 gallon of bitterness and remorse

2 cups of "it's a pimple - not a melanoma"

1 small pinch of sneaky credit-card debt

1 dash of "mummy's got a hang over"

3 teaspoon of seething resentment

1 cup of "we can't afford a divorce:

1 cup each of "you really should have held that one in"

1 large and long memory of every argument ever entered into

1 cup blindness to the other's attributes

Flavour with frequent portions of criticism and a dash of bitter regret. Stir well and remove any specks of joy, laughter or desire. Sweeten well with generous portions of sarcasm and put-down humour.  Warm with a steady flame of hate. Never serve with hope.

I'm not sure if my step-mother would have appreciated this version of the recipe. She divorced my dad years ago. Still, I think it's more honest, though I don't expect you'll be seeing it painted on a plate any time soon...

*Some have suggested that I can sometimes be a tiny, weeny bit cynical and even a tad sarcastic.