I'm Living in a Bad, Old Sitcom

    I swear, the thing I'm going to tell you about tonight has happened on dozens of old TV comedies, with the main difference being that in the end, what they thought had happened actually hadn't. That was a very awkward sentence, but you'll get over it.

   On February 29th, 2004, Mrs. Snarky and I were married. In our living room. By one of our neighbors. Let's take those statements one at a time. Yes, I realize that February 29th only happens every four years. We decided that in non-leap years, we'd take our anniversary on the 28th, or March 1st, depending on which day looked better. If the 28th was on Friday, then the 1st would likely be better since it fell on the weekend. In leap years, we pledged to do a little something extra. A special anniversary every four years. It's worked out quite well so far. 

    Next. We got married in our living room in front of our three children who lived with us at the time. Also, Mrs. Snarky's sister, and if I remember correctly, two of her her kids came. That's it. We didn't want to make a big deal of it, not because we took it lightly, but because, in our eyes, we'd been married since the day I moved to Oregon and merged our families. We'd each been married once before, and felt no need to spend a fortune to pledge our love in front of the whole world.

   Finally, our neighbor was an ordained minister and good friend. He agreed to join us together and let no man put asunder and all that other stuff. He then pronounced us Man and Wife... which is weird, because I was already a Man... why isn't it Husband and Wife?

We were just like these two, only just a little happier

    So, we were married for several years before Mrs. Snarky finally decided to make it official and change her name on her driver's license, because of course she waited because that's what we do. Nothing is EVER simple for us. There's gotta be some kind of ordeal involved, usually because we didn't do what we were supposed to do.

    DMV tells her that she has to go to the bureau of vital statistics and get a copy of our marriage certificate. We go there together, probably 6 months later because, again, this is what we do. Wait in the line, which I believe is required by law at all government offices, regardless of how small and insignificant the office happens to be. I think they might have people on the payroll who wait in the offices for an actual customer to come in, and then they pretend they've been waiting in line for the important service this office provides. Finally, we reach the head of the line and give the clerk our information, and request the copy of the marriage certificate. After several attempts to pull us up on her computer screen, and several faces made by said clerk at said computer screen, she let us in on our dirty little secret. According to the state of Oregon, we are not married. She sees a marriage license issued, but no record of the marriage actually occurring.

   

At least when these two thought they weren't married, they had separate beds

    I was shocked. It meant that I'd been living in sin! It meant that I had 4 illegitimate step-children. It made my children illegitimate for Mrs. Snarky. WAIT A MINUTE! She's not even Mrs. Snarky!!! Oh, the humanity! My entire life for the last 13 years has been a lie!

    Well, that happened about a year ago. Maybe longer. I don't know. Because of course it did. Waiting is what we do. I've actually been into the office on three separate occasions, but the person who handles this sort of thing (maybe it happens more than I think it should?) is out of the office and "Will call you back," which he or she (I can't remember) never does. So, I'm still living in sin. I guess I'm okay with that. Nobody better call our kids bad names over this or I'll have to find them and beat them up.

You've been warned.

 

 Me