If anything should ever happen to my marriage, you’ll find me in a convent. I’m serious. Before we got married, my husband-to-be told me he would never give me a divorce. I shrugged and said, “Okay.” I lovingly refer to it as our “pre-nup.”
But if we were to ever split up, I am headed for the convent. I already have one picked out and I’ve talked to the nuns there about it. The one nun smiled when I told her. She said she would not turn me away, but it is a process. A very long process at that! Anywhere from 5-7 years!
I say this because if, God forbid, I find myself separated from my husband I would want my life to go in a different direction. I want to make sure that I don’t do stupid things. Very stupid things, like dating.
The thought of dating makes me cringe, but what makes it much worse is what our children will think of me without their father and even more creepy, with other men. My kids are half-Italian and have access to a cement mixer. We’re talking immediate Soprano-mode in my household!
That brings me to their faces. To see the faces of those three beautiful people disappointed in their mother sends me right over the edge. Not even the Holy Trinity scares me as much.
Whether I like it or not, I’m the role model. I was entrusted with three souls and I have to account for how I’ve raised them and set an example for them.
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