In Jessica Gottlieb's Comments
My wife once told me that if something were to happen to her, I should remarry. I told her that I wouldn’t even think such things, but she grew insistent.
“You have to. Who will take care of you? Of the house? Of the kids?”
Finally I relented. Big mistake.
“Wait,” she said. “When you get remarried, will you sleep with her here? In our bed?”
I thought about it for a moment, and then I told her that would make sense as there was no use blowing a good bedding investment.
“And,” she went on, a bit petulantly now. “Would you let her wear my clothes?”
I reasoned that, as she would no longer need them, if there were any clothes that my new wife would be interested in, it would make sense to let her wear them.
My wife looked to our closet and eyed her brand new golf clubs. The ones I had just bought her for her birthday.
“Would you let her use my new golf clubs?” She was near tears by now thinking about how, in her mind, I had already replaced her.
“Of course I wouldn’t let her use those clubs,” I assured her. This appeared to greatly relieve my wife, and she visibly brightened. I continued, “She’s not right handed, you know.”