Recently, two older Canadian men were convicted of polygamy. The court said evidence proved one was married to 25 women and the other to five.
It all went down in the appropriately named community of Bountiful.
I understand the appeal of getting married. I did it once. That was more than enough.
While there are laws against being married to more than one person, you’d think the mere logistics would keep anyone from simultaneous betrothals.
Imagine having not just one spouse mad at you for leaving your dirty underwear on the floor, but 25.
It’s impossible to keep up with birthdays and anniversaries, and good luck convincing your health insurance provider you not only need all those ED pills, but you often run out.
That’s just to keep up with the wives.
Now imagine the soccer practices, Little League games and parent-teacher conferences. You’re going to need a bigger minivan.
Polygamy makes absolutely no sense. It’s hard enough being married to one person. Adding others makes it exponentially more difficult.
But what if you flipped it around?
Now that I’m older and much lazier, I wonder what it would be like to be a brother husband. Maybe one of five or six men married to the same woman.
Brother Daniel, for example, is the family handyman. He takes care of all the smaller repairs around the compound.
Brother Josh is an expert with the wrench and keeps the cars running.
Brother Alonzo loves kids and takes care of any that may be present (which is not a given).
In this scenario, I also envision a yard-work husband, a plumbing husband and an AC husband. I’d be the tech and beer husband, ensuring the internet and beer streams were constantly flowing.
Bedroom duties might crop up every couple of weeks. And they might not. Whatever.
Let me reiterate: I’m older and much lazier.
I’d never advocate polygamy as a lifestyle, legally or morally.
But if there’s a woman looking for a seventh-string husband with little upside, and a good health plan is available, I’m willing to listen.