For the last few years I have embraced the bachelor life. I was responsible for only myself, keeping my house exactly the way I wanted it -- I was master of my own domain. My how things change.
A month ago my fiancee and her 18-year-old daughter sold their house and moved in and my bachelor ways disappeared. No longer did I have refrigerator with chocolate milk, a few adult beverages and some barbecue sauce. Now, I have a refrigerator that is so full of food I have to search for my sodas that seem to disappear. I either get really thirsty at night or somebody is helping me drink them.
As Charlie Brown would say, "Oh, good grief!"
I come home from work and instead of flopping down in my recliner and turning on some basketball I find the ladies already watching "Grey's Anatomy." I'm not sure how many episodes there are of this awful show but they must have seen every episode 10 times by now.
As Charlie Brown would say, "Oh, good grief!"
My walls used to be bare, with only a framed college diploma, a dartboard and a couple pictures -- which were hung by my fiancee years ago. Now every wall has a framed photo or some sort of decoration, except my dart board which disappeared. And I know every wall has a photo or decoration, because I hung every one of them.
"Is that straight?"
"No, it looks a little crooked."
I take a deep sigh, remove the nail and put it in the same hole.
"How about now?"
"Perfect!"
As Charlie Brown would say, "Oh, good grief!"
The house smells too. And not in a bad way. Oh no, it smells like flowers and potpourri. My dogs are constantly going around sniffing everything because it smells so good. They think it may be food. I tried to tell them it's just the smell of the lack of manhood but they don't believe me.
I even have some candle-thing in my bedroom. I go to sleep with the smell of vanilla and wake up hungry every morning.
As Charlie Brown would say, "Oh, good grief!"
My house has furniture -- in every room. And nice furniture that my fiancee and I went out and picked out ourselves. It isn't hand-me-down furniture or anything. And everything matches. No mismatched colors, no holes in the cushions, nothing from a dollar store. It actually looks like a real home and people actually want to come inside and visit.
As Charlie Brown would say, "Oh, good grief!"
I have to shut doors now, too. And so do the ladies. And the doors lock. How is that a problem you ask? Well, when they accidentally lock the bathroom door with nobody in it, it can be hard to get inside. And I get frantic text messages while I am at work that my future stepdaughter is "willing to break down the door and pay me back for it." Two ladies without access to their beauty products and lotions in the morning can be catastrophic.
As Charlie Brown would say, "Oh, good grief!"
Fortunately I was able to pick the lock in 30 seconds with a coat hanger after looking it up on the Google. Obviously the ladies aren't the first to have ever done such a thing.
Every day I notice another piece of my bachelorhood has disappeared. But the funny thing is, I don't care. As a matter of fact, I prefer it this way. Who wouldn't want to spend their days and nights with two great ladies in a house that smells good with new furniture?
If I could only find that dart board that was taken down. As Charlie Brown would say, "Oh, good grief!"