Every once in awhile, the subject of my wife, Doralyn's, next husband comes up. That's not because we're on the outs or anything, it's just what seems a realistic topic for discussion as I am significantly that much older than she is.This is the second marriage for both of us and one of her favourite sayings is I married the first time for kids, the second time for love, and the third time it'll be for money!
We kind of smile and chuckle whenever this comes up, obviously not knowing whether life will work itself out this way or not but, frankly, I'd be quite happy for her if, after I'm gone, she found some rich guy who was able to provide her with some of the things I'm unable to right at the moment. And when I say some of the things, I mean pretty well everything. Neither one of us came out of our respective previous marriages particularly well off financially, so we found ourselves basically as the the stereotypical struggling newlyweds, the only difference being that we were in our thirties and fifties at the time. We're in our forties and sixties right now and nothing much has changed, believe me.
Now, I'm not sure who Doralyn envisions as her next husband but I kind of picture The Most Interesting Man In The World from all the Dos Equis commercials. He'll be able to fly her wherever they want to go and take her on all these marvelous adventures, dressing her up glamourously and treating her royally. With the husband she has now, well, we occasionally make it to Toronto... This new husband, whoever it turns out to be, will be a lucky man. I know this because I'm a lucky man and everyone knows I'm a lucky man. I'll wager that this actually confounds the odd person and I know it certainly is a little beyond my comprehension as to how I became this lucky. I should really buy lottery tickets. I really wish I could tell you just how lucky I am but, really, there's not the time. Just take my word for it!
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