My Husband, I Vow to Honor You Always—Unless We’re Playing Scrabble, in Which Case I’ll Destroy Your Ass

I can’t believe that our wedding day is finally here. I’m so lucky to be standing with the man of my dreams, surrounded by friends and family. My partner, my cutie, my beloved, I vow to support, honor, and love you always—unless we’re playing a game of Scrabble, in which case I will ruthlessly wipe the floor with your ass.

We met on the playground—two nine-year-olds with no clue where the future would take us. You pulled my hair and stole my toys, but even then I knew that you were the one. We overcame our childish fights and soon you were my best friend. That same year I was given a Scrabble deluxe-edition rotating wooden game board, and for the first time I experienced the sheer joy of shredding you to pieces when I played “giraffe” on a triple-word score for seventy-eight points.

I vow to make sure that the house is always stocked with your favorite snack, white-Cheddar Cheez-Its. I vow to rub your back when you’ve had a hard day. I vow never to pass judgment on you—unless that judgment is “I am better than him at Scrabble,” which is less of a judgment and more of an objective fact. I’m amazing at that game.

I remember, when I was in the hospital, you sat at my bedside every day and all through the night. Even though I was ghostly pale, with ratty hair and sunken eyes, you told me that I was beautiful. You were my light in the darkness. You told me jokes, you drew pictures for me, you brought me my favorite game. We played Scrabble right there, on top of the hospital blanket, and, even though I was the weakest I have ever been and practically hallucinating from the drugs, I still beat you by twenty-two points. Eat shit, Mark!

I vow to make you breakfast in bed. I vow to keep your secrets. I vow to never, ever cheat—even though you constantly accuse me of rigging the game to get better tiles. What you fail to understand is that I don’t need better tiles. I will win with whichever tiles I pick. I’m just that good.

I’ll never forget when you proposed to me, on that white-sand beach in Aruba—you knelt down as the sun set, looked into my eyes, and told me that you wanted to be with me forever. All I could think about was the time you had all the letters to spell “forever” (seven-letter word, fifty-point bonus) but you somehow didn’t realize it. Then, to make matters worse, you just spelled “of.” A complete garbage showing, as usual. I love you with my whole heart, and I guess part of loving someone is loving their flaws, which in your case is sucking complete ass at Scrabble.

I vow to be your wife forever. I vow to stand by you no matter what. If I’ve learned anything from this complex, mystical game we call life, it’s that there are no winners and losers in love. Scrabble, though, is an uncomplicated game. Scrabble has a winner. And that winner is always me.


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