Holding Forth no image

Published on July 11th, 2014 | by Richard Black

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How I Married a Couch and Other Thoughts on Unconventional Marriage

There have been quite a few weddings in the Black household as of late and by “household” I mean my home and by “as of late” I mean…well recently. Before anyone gets upset and calls child services I should mention that I haven’t married my daughter, nor has my wife (at least as far as I’m aware). We do live in the Midwest and I realize that such things are cause for concern but it really doesn’t happen often where I’m from.

So just to set the record straight neither my wife, daughter nor I have engaged in some weird ass ritual to marry our daughter. We haven’t married any animals either.  In fact I can safely say that all of the weddings that have taken place in my home have not involved a human being being wedded to a close relative or an animal.

I did find myself bound until death to our couch but that occurs later on.

So for that past few weeks my daughter Darcy has been fascinated (I’ll use that adjective as obsessed seems to be a bit harsh) with binding various items in our house in Holy matrimony. Unbeknownst to me we have been living in a hotbed of sin and Darcy has taken it upon herself to bind dolls, utensils, crayons, and just about everything else in blissful wedlock.

As I mentioned earlier I found myself paired with an unlikely spouse in the midst of my daughter’s enthusiasm for matrimony. I nodded off for a few minutes during Sofia the First and woke up with the entire cast of the Octonauts on my chest who were there to witness my marriage to our couch.  I have never been so happy to not be living in Utah or Oregon where I imagine these sorts of things happen all the time and are legally binding.

All in all though I have to say that I approve of most of the matches my daughter has made, excluding the couch and myself. Then again who knows? We both seem committed to the relationship so who’s to say we wont go the distance?

Suffice it to say that if it’s an object in our home it’s safe to say that my daughter has married it to something else in much the same spirit that Crusaders forced conversions in the Holy Land back in the day. One of my favorite pairings involved a rather plucky and well worn ball point pen to a rather standoffish but dishy pink felt tip marker.

It also turns out that Tinkerbell, the fairy has finally come out of the closet in a big way and proposed to Vidia. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t spot the budding romance a mile away. Vidia’s been coming on to Tink for some time and I’ve always thought Vidia’s elitist pose was nothing more than an insecure facade to hide her attraction to Tink. It’s a passive aggressive ploy but it seems to have worked although I don’t expect to see any female fairy on fairy action in Disney Junior anytime too soon.

In the kitchen the salt and pepper shakers have been mixing things up. We’ve got two sets. One for day-to-day use and another crystal set that was brought out for some reason over the weekend and immediately appropriated by my daughter.

I’ve only heard this second hand but it seems as if Duchess Pepper and the Earl of Salt have decided to call it quits. It’s always sad to see a relationship end and I honestly think it’s for the best.

After a hundred years or so of the same old same old the Earl of Salt has had his eye on the voluptuous Mrs. Pepper for quite a while.  I can’t say for certain that anything untoward has happened between them but I wouldn’t be surprised. A few years ago we found the Earl in the spice rack on top of the Paramour Paprika.

The event caused him no measure of trouble with his wife the Duchess.  She shunned him from the marital bed for quite a while and who can blame her? Aside from the blow to her ego and their marriage I’m fairly certain the Earl didn’t use protection and those Hungarians are just rife with disease.

Fortunately the Duchess  seems to have recovered quite nicely aside from that unseemly episode involving General Chipotle  and Senor Pickles.  She appears to have struck up a promising relationship with Captain Sea Salt, a portly common fellow, but I think they pair quite well actually. The Captain, as she calls him, is often away but the absence truly makes the heart grow fonder and the Duchess has always needed a substantial amount of time to herself.

My favorite, and probably the most appropriate match Darcy made, was between a rake and a hoe and I swear that I am not making this up. For those without a comprehensive understanding of 18th century slang a “rake” is a term used to describe “a man, especially one who is rich or with a high social position , who lives in an immoral way, especially having sex with a lot of women,”  and that’s according to the intertubes according to the Cambridge Dictionary.

Suffice it to say that I find it hilarious that the rake married a hoe and if you don’t understand why that’s funny then I suggest you leave your bunker in Montana and watch a few reruns on BET.

Given the number of items my daughter has been marrying off these days it was probably only a matter of time until the pairing happened. Still I find it to be incredibly…auspicious for my purposes that she put the two managed to get together. There are, after all, a lot of other tools out there.

To make matters even better I had the opportunity to take part in the ceremony. Darcy had me speaking for the rake while she oversaw the vows and played the part of, and this pains me to say it, the hoe.

Having come from a family chock full of attorneys I only found it natural to ask a few questions before the ritual was performed.

“I truly love you Mrs. Hoe but would you consider signing a prenuptial agreement?” I asked in a falsetto voice before the two took their vows. Hardly an appropriate moment mind you but given the rapid way the relationship had progressed you couldn’t blame me.

“You’re not playing right Daddy,” my daughter said.

“You’re probably right Darcy but neither is Mrs. Hoe,’ I replied, “is she going to have a baby?”

“Yeah,” my daughter answered, “she’s going to have eleven or twelve.”

“How about one or two?” I asked.

“No daddy,” Darcy said,”eleven or twelve.”

“We should probably have medical insurance then,” I said, “Does Mrs. Hoe have a good medical policy. Mr. Rake has been living in his mother’s basement for the past six years.”

“Daddy,” Darcy said in the theatrically exasperated tone I’ve come to love and expect to loathe within eight years.

“Hey I’m just thinking about the best interests of Mr. and Mrs. Rake. No one wins when someone’s uterus falls out.”

“And now you’re married,” Darcy said, ignoring my protests and concluding the blessed event.

I wish them both the best. I really do. Given their background however I’m a bit pessimistic about their chances. For that matter I don’t think the Earl of Salt will be able to stick it out with Mrs. Pepper. She’s good looking and all but the Earl is pretty much willing to hump anything that isn’t nailed down and Mrs. Pepper wont tolerate any of that.

I’m pretty sure I saw him making eyes at my X-Box the other day and Mrs. Hoe too. There’s probably a threesome in the making there. Mrs. Hoe is still in her experimental phase. In my opinion she married Mr. Rake entirely too soon because of the pregnancy.

I can understand her attraction to the X-Box. I’ve loved that bastard for years and he’s a good guy. He really is. I’m just sure that he’s slumming with Pepper and testing the waters with the Earl.  It will all end in tears ultimately and until the men in white coats come I’ll be diligent in keeping you all up to date.


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