My Husband Tim, Who Is My Husband, by Jamie Loftus

In case you did not receive my embossed card in the tangible mail, this is a digital copy of a photograph of me and also of my husband Tim, who didn’t used to be my husband, but now is my husband and is named Tim.

It follows that Tim and I live in the same home and have met in person, in addition to co-owning a dog which we call our “child” since we are married and Tim is my husband and it is not atypical for the married to be in a situation as I just described in the sentence which is continuing now. However, the dog which my husband Tim and I feed on alternating days in a parental fashion could not qualify as our “child” on tax forms because rather than being a human child fused together with the DNA of my husband Tim and myself, it is a dog named Child.

Tim (my husband) is 44 years old and has an eighth-grade education as well as a doctorate in civil engineering. He owns a 2003 Toyota Corolla that was new when my husband Tim purchased it, but is no longer new; rather, it is 14 years old, which is 30 years younger than my husband Tim who I married.

Previous to my marriage to Tim, I was not married to Tim. In spite of that, I am now married to Tim. Regardless of my marital status or relation to Tim, which has never been biological, I have worked at the Enterprise car rental agency for 10 years. Thus far, my legal adulthood has spanned 10 years, unlike my husband Tim’s, whose legal adult life has spanned 26 years — this is due to the fact that he is 44. I have completed an eighth-grade education and, in addition, an eleventh-grade education.

You’ll notice in the photograph that we are extending our right hands in a celebratory manner while displaying expensive-looking rings, the suggestion being that we have just been married. In the spirit of this photograph, which also features both traditional and expensive clothing, Tim, who was previously not my husband but rather the husband of a woman named Laura, is now my husband and no longer Laura’s husband like he was previously. Due to Laura’s no longer being married to Tim, she is not in the photograph. Contrarily, I am in the photograph.

While I have no human children, my husband who is named Tim (because that is the shortened version of his legal name) has six human children with Laura, who he was married to previously but is no longer married to because he is married to me and I am Tim’s wife now. All six human children belonging to my husband Tim and Laura who is not my husband have names, legs, and know how to read — at least, according to Tim, who is my husband.

Laura does not want my scent on the children belonging to her and also Tim. Therefore, I cannot confirm their names, appendages, or literacy skills.

“You can trust me,” my husband Tim assured me when I, Tim’s wife, inquired. “I am your husband Tim, and you are my wife, although previously you were not, and Laura was. However, you’ll find now, if you make an appointment at City Hall and convene with the correct officer of the law, that it is you, and not Laura, who is currently married to me, who is Tim.”

“Ah, yes,” I answered my husband Tim, which is short for Timothy. “We are indeed married.”

If one were to ask the opinion of me, I would say my husband Tim who I married is a good and interesting man. Each day he awakens in a bed next to me, his wife, approximately 12 minutes before I awaken — although, because the man I married who is Tim delivers this approximate time to me, I cannot confirm this with utter certainty. Tim, who was born 44 years ago, then consumes a bowl of oats and ascends the stairs that we share in the home he used to share with Laura who is not his wife but now shares with me, who is his wife. Tim then touches my shoulder, reeking of oats, and informs me that the time to awaken in order to get to the Enterprise car rental agency has arrived, to which I respond by awakening. Tim who I married will then prepare me and our dog Child our own bowls of oats, after which we will all kiss goodbye and head to our respective workplaces for the agreed-upon duration of time.

When he is not working as my husband who has an eighth-grade education and also has a doctorate in civil engineering, Tim who signed a contract legally binding himself to me out of a deep love that was previously held for Laura who was his wife but isn’t anymore will sometimes view the sport with the orange ball on our television screen, which is flat. While he does so, I will perform yoga stretches on the appropriate mat on the floor beside my husband Tim. Sometimes, I will do a pose commonly referred to in yoga as “Child’s Pose,” which prominently features the human arms and also haunches.

“I did not know our dog, who is named Child, had their own pose created or inspired by them in the popular sphere of yoga,” my husband Tim once said, in jest, in reference to the pose I had assumed which referenced a child.

I responded as one typically would to jesterly behavior. “Tim, you are my husband,” I said, “and we share this home in which, occasionally, I will perform a yoga pose that, while it may appear to have been inspired by the dog we share whose name is Child, actually pre-dates our dog whose name is Child, who is three in human years but 21 in the years created with dogs in mind.”

Tim, who I am married to, therefore making me his wife, laughed and laughed.

As a final comment on the photograph of my husband Tim and I which I have enclosed digitally, I encourage you to strain your eyes to view the blurred figure behind my (that is to say, Tim’s wife) recently married head. Your strained eyes may deceive you — while that blurred figure may appear to be my husband Tim, it is not my husband Tim, but rather his brother who is named Tom, rather than Tim. My husband Tim has commented that he and his brother who is Tom look similar due to their shared parents, genes, and positive outlook on life, which may be why Tim’s previous wife Laura is now the paramour of Tim’s brother, who is Tom.

This development sent the six human children belonging to my husband Tim and also Laura who was his wife into a frenzy. Instead of discouraging Laura for kissing my husband Tim’s brother and therefore their uncle Tom at the wedding of Tim and I, the human children belonging to both Laura and Tim cheered, then booed both me and the Enterprise car rental agency.

In spite of this hardship, my husband Tim and I are now on the vacation traditionally following a formal marriage ceremony, finances allowing. Subsequently, we plan to engage in the age-old tradition of “being jesterly and having a good time.”

In conclusion, goodbye.

Jamie Loftus has written for The New Yorker, Paste Magazine, Reductress, Playboy, College Humor, the Boston Globe, and worked on conceptual comedy projects like Shrek Nudes and Turkey Sandwich Terrorism. All of her writing and comedy things can be found at her website.

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My Husband Tim, Who Is My Husband, by Jamie Loftus