A LIKELY STORY: AGGRAVATED OLD KNIFE-WIELDING WIVES' TALES

Groucho Marx once quipped: "Marriage is a wonderful institution, but who wants to live in an institution?"

Inevitably, the question I'm getting most often in the last week has been: "So, you ready for the big day?"

When they explain that they're talking about my wedding Saturday and not November's general election, the excited smile tends to fade from my face and I look down at my shoes and mutter, "Oh, yeah. That."

I usually manage a half-hearted "I can hardly wait" or "Ready as I'll ever be." But I don't think I'm too convincing.

It's not that I don't want to get married, I do. The problem is, I'm AFRAID to get married. But I wasn't afraid until after I had a terrifying lunch one day last week with co-workers.

They spent the lunch hour at a local restaurant taking delight in telling me chilling tales from their own horrifying marriages.

They had me petrified.

"Oh, she'll stab you at least once," one guy said. "You can count on that. Put a hole as big as your finger in your gut." He began to finger his stomach and I wondered if there may be a scar under his shirt.

When I nervously asked him why someone would do that, he just laughed a embarrassed little laugh and said: "I mixed her red clothes with her whites in the wash. What else is she gonna do?"

"And she'll change," a buddy who has been married a while jumped in. "One minute, she's really sweet and loving and then the next minute --." He finished his sentence by pulling his forefinger across his neck, obviously making the universal all-wives-eventually-go-crazy-and-kill-their-husbands symbol.

And then another man told me that the scariest story of all: "You guys will move in together and she'll straighten out your books and put your shaving stuff under the sink. And she'll mess with your tools, man, she'll mess with your tools!" He was nearly shouting, standing up and pulling at his hair.

Some people came and said they were taking him someplace peaceful.

I think maybe he's getting a divorce soon.

I spent the rest of the lunch hour enduring similar stories of severed body parts, destroyed property and overcooked chicken. It was not pretty. All from people who said they were happily married.

It's all part of the package, my friend, seemed to be the overwhelming sentiment.

Afterward, I began to wonder what I do that will change my sweet non-axe-wielding wife to one with sharp objects and an attitude. And in about 10 minutes, I came up with a list of about 200 things.

But I'll only share a few of them with you here.

* I like to eat my meals while in the nude. I know it sounds a little odd but I think food tastes better if my body can breathe. Don't knock it until you try it. And what a conversation starter when the in-laws stop by.

* I only use bug spray for deodorant. I know it seems weird but when I don't use it bugs keep flying around my arm pits.

* Here's one that's a little more common. I blow my nose on dirty shirts. Which wouldn't be so bad, but I think silk feels especially nice on my nose. And Lori has lots of silk.

These are only a couple of my minor quirks that I suspect may irritate Lori. But I don't think anything could turn us into those angry, ugly old married people I had lunch with last week.

Unless, of course, Lori has any habits that irritate me. Like chewing with her mouth open. I could never tolerate that.

~Scott Moyers is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.