I Lost My Bachelor Degree; She Got Her Master

Now that I'm married, I have to get used to the idea of living with a girl. Actually it's kinda nice that she transformed my formerly barbarian cave into something resembling a decent human dwelling. And I find it a lot easier to find my clothes because the few I own are neatly stored in the wardrobe, ironed and perfumed. And one thing that I consider nothing less than a miraculous feat: she managed to remove that horrid smell from the bathroom. Plus there's always home-cooked breakfast and a nice cup of coffee before I set out to work.

However, there are several ground rules that I have to comply. Everytime I try to challenge these rules she always threaten with something involving a headache, and my rebellion is promptly subdued. Here are some of them:

Kitchen is her absolute territory. I must never contest her authority in this area, eventhough I consider myself as a decent cook. Criticism is not encouraged. Everything she cooks, or worse,experiments with, I must risk my life consuming.

Movies with kids, babies and cats are encouraged. Those with guns, military personnels, bloodbaths, or dark environment are frowned upon. Porns are out of the question.

Smoking is forbidden in the livingroom, hallway, kitchen, bathroom and especially bedroom. The only safe place to smoke is actually out of the house. And instead of a full stick, I can only smoke half a cigarette. It's for your own sake, she said.

Any beverage containing alcohol is not allowed.

Although we are the only persons in the house, she refuse to open the bathroom door when she's taking a bath. Apparently voyeurism is not her cup of tea.

Oh well, there is always a price to pay.