I’ve decided that for 2019, I’m gonna put myself up for adoption. It’s the only way out of this mess, and I think that it would be mutually beneficial for me as well as for my new family. Of course, we’ll have to set some ground rules and conditions. That would be as simple as knowing what would be expected of me, balanced by what I would expect from my new family. Believe me, I am a catch and will be an asset wherever I land and to whomever I land on. I travel well and can learn languages. But I don’t do windows.
First of all, you (whoever you are) would have to be able to afford me. I am not going to trade poor for poorer, and if that doesn’t make sense, you can stop the application process right here. In return for my services, which include cooking, simple errand completions, and maybe a little light housework, I definitely need some financial stability in my life. You can be singled, coupled, or nuclear-familied in condition or number—although I don’t do well in crowds or Eight Is Enough-type situations, so size does matter.
Picture it: You get up in the morning, and your coffee is made just the way you like it. I’ll know what you like for breakfast; I will have picked up your clothes from the cleaners, sorted your mail, and have your newspaper ready at your place at the table.
POINT 1: There will be no electronic devices at mealtimes, AT ALL (deal-breaker). If there are dependents involved, whether they be four-legged or bipedal, I expect that you will already have housebroken and trained them. I don’t mind reading to them, helping with studies, walks, or chauffeuring them to their sanctioned outings.
POINT 2: I don’t change diapers, clean up after, or take crap from your kids.
As you return for the evening after you’ve busted your hump for the man, I’ll have your favorite beverage on hand, dinner will be in its final stages of preparation, and softness and peace will prevail in your household. Your mail will have gone out, and your expenses will be analyzed and laid out on your desk for your consideration in your short “attention to life’s details” time in your office. At this point, I will ask you if you’d like a bath drawn; then, if nothing else is required of me, I’ll clear the table, lock down the kitchen, and retire to my quarters.
POINT 3: I fulfill a finite function in your life and am not on call 24/7; after all, I am human (or so I’d like to believe) and need some downtime of my own.
Imagine: I will do your shopping; I will remember birthdays, special occasions, and make reservations and such; and I’ll take care of (getting someone else to do) your laundry, carpets, windows, and heavy lifting. I’m not sure who’s going to make up your bed (it’s not me) or clean your toilet, but we’ll find someone (else). I am a quiet person who likes things organized and neat, and I intend on maintaining that sort of life and environment for you. I ask nothing in return, except one day off a week, a stipend of a reasonable amount, and perhaps my own wing of your castle.
POINT 4: Sanitation of your area is your responsibility; I am your functioning ward (for life), not your husband or your wife.
Reflect that now you will have time to do all those things you’ve been trying to fit into your ridiculously, mundanely cluttered and busy life; you now can exercise, read, paint, study piano, go sailing, and/or binge-watch The Blacklist, while drinking beer and eating potato chips. Relax. I’ll pick up the (reasonably mild) debris and make things comfortable for you.
POINT 5: You will not jeopardize my tenure by screwing up your health and well-being. Tobacco use is NOT allowed ever in your life (or any other self-destructive influences). If you feel the need to talk things out, I’ll be in the kitchen doing the dishes; grab a towel, and I’ll impart some life lessons.
Well, you say, if I’m going to live by all those rules (POINTS) why the @#$!%&# do I need you? Well, I say, you’ve obviously got money but no time, and I offer you a way to have both. Who’ll keep the pool cleaned while you’re on vacation? Who’ll take charge of the floors being done for the holidays? Hell, who’s gonna make sure you have candy for the trick-or-treaters, flowers for your anniversary, or your bills paid on time—YOU? Oh, and speaking of my living arrangements, I come with a couple of critters and a mate (she likes to clean, so perhaps a package deal?), so I’ll need room (I’m also thinking a little garden space as well).
Seriously, don’t you (or someone of means whom you know) need an older (wiser), more-organized-than-you (clean-shaven with minimal tattoos), music-loving (no rap or twerk stuff), educated, and personable live-in Mister, who is non-combative, emotionally stable, politically correct, and a fabulous cook, to boot? Listen, all you’ll have to do is make some dough to support us all, and I’ll take care of everything else—kind of what you’d expect from a clone of yourself. If you’re independently well-off or just some dude(ette) who wants to focus on your own egocentrically driven existence, you need a guy like me OR someone like me. For goodness sake, I need someone like me, except I can’t afford me!
So, I have a passport, a set of knives, and the ability to prepare virtually anything that suits your palate. And, oh yes, I forgot to mention: I will polish your silver (as long as he’s not your horse).