Ways I Keep My Husband in Our Mixed-Weight Marriage

It has recently come to my attention via internet outrage that I am in what is considered a “mixed-weight” marriage. Magazines, podcasts, and CNN are judging women who outweigh their husbands, even though Bridgerton said it was okay.

But internet trolls say that it is absolutely not okay, expressing their disgust in ALL CAPS. So, before my husband hears of this controversy and suddenly realizes I am not as thin as I was when we got married, I’m prepared to prevent him from fleeing using these tricks:

• I put my legs across his lap when we sit on the couch to immobilize him.
• I hypnotize him by rapidly swinging the jiggly part of my upper arms.
• I pull one leg of my Spanx down his torso, tell him he looks like a captured Scooby Doo villain, and I’m really into that.
• I hug him at his waist, attaching myself like a human chip clip. I dare him to pull me as he walks.
• If I sense him getting restless, I ask him to retell the story of when he scored a touchdown in his junior year of high school. I give him an avocado to serve as a mini football and push back all the furniture. I encourage him to include every detail. His reenactment takes two hours.
• I’m at the finish line when he runs a road race. I’m not there to clap for him but to surveil him. In case the race is his getaway plan, I’ve learned how to operate a heat-seeking drone. But unbelievably, although he endures a mixed-weight marriage, he returns. And he can easily outrun me, even if I am wearing my best sports bra.

As unimaginable as it must be to those enraged by the fictional Bridgerton mixed-weight marriage, it’s like my husband doesn’t even want to escape our union. I guess I should alert the media, or at least CNN, to interview us. But they will have to get through the maze I built out of my old VHS workout tapes to get to our door.