domestication

As my life comes to the border of that country they call adulthood (brought about by the title of Mrs., and nothing else), I think on what prepared me for this. Marriage is utterly fantastic, and although I am only two months in, I can't imagine a more wonderful "institution". How can something so adult be such a rollicking good time? People always speak of marriage with such disdain and warning. What a tragedy- even if it is in a joking manner. Ball and Chain? More like trampoline and water hose. Ah, what a brilliant combination.
Anyway, as my newlywed mind wanders, I think about the fact that maybe we aren't really grown up yet. In fact, maybe I never learned the facilities for grownupness or good wifery.
Baby animals (at least in most mammals) play, just like children do. The play time is supposedly biologically beneficial to help the animals learn and hone vital skills needed in adulthood.
When I learned this in my animal psychology class, I immediately thought of common child pastimes. The most typical and applicable example is "playing house". That particular game arose in any gathering of children where a small plastic kitchen with accessory plastic food was present. I distinctly remember that every time this game was suggested, all the girls immediately claimed the role of mother. There was usually arguing involved, until eventually the more outspoken girl won and made her least favorite girl the father, and assigned child positions to any other remaining children. This game always made me nervous, because whenever it was suggested, I wanted my position in the family so much, and I was always afraid someone would try to take it.
I had to be the dog.
My frantic worries proved to be unwarranted, as no one ever challenged me on it.

I can't help but think that maybe I missed out on some essential childhood learning because I always chose the role of family dog.
Mine was a non-speaking part, but I made up for it with ample panting and tail-wagging.
Did I never learn how to become a proper domestic wife/mom because I never played the part? I don't fix meals every night...or any nights, really, and life with Brian is full of childish giggling. Often our meal is a frozen pizza (for financial reasons AND convenience)...however I do own an apron.
I have been known to wear the apron while putting the frozen pizza in the oven. After it comes out of the oven, I also sprinkle with basil, oregano, and paprika, which evidently justifies the apron, I think.
Perhaps, in time, I will learn to be more domestic. Maybe one day I will always have a meal prepared, and the house will sparkle with cleanliness, and our bed will be fluffed and appropriately adorned with multiple sizes and colors of pillow. For now, it is still sort of ...what's the word...
College. With an awesome roomate.
Is this quasi-adulthood such a bad thing?

I think not.
I rather enjoy it, and so does he.