Weekly Posting of the Conservative Cow Doctor

 

The Trophy Wife 3.0

New readers in new markets mistakenly think trophy wife is a demeaning term.  It is not, here being why:  When I turned 16 and had access to the family station wagon, I figured I needed a girlfriend.  I put the same effort into picking a homecoming date as ranchers do when selecting replacement heifers, so after studying the honor roll, and the girls’ volleyball roster, I spotted the perfect girl.  I asked her to the dance and she said “Yes.”  Seven years later, I asked her to marry me and she fell for it again.  Our 38 years of marital bliss, three children and 17 grandchildren prove I have a great eye for cattle.  (Let’s pause here while the thought police peel themselves from the ceiling panels.  It is so easy to trip their triggers.)  Here is just one of the several ways she earned the trophy wife moniker. 

 While building our second home, we lived in a cramped, fifth-wheel camper.  Rather than dragging the trailer to town to drain the holding tanks every week, I bolted a toilet seat to a sawed-off 55-gallon barrel, dug a pit in the sagebrush and covered it with a tepee tent.   Our prairie commode would have made Martha Stewart proud, save the small inconvenience of banging on the barrel as a snake check before plopping your backside onto the seat.  On the bright side, our dogs loved the snake check when the banging kicked out a rabbit. 

 Early one July morning, I was peeling and notching log trusses, when the trophy wife stepped from the camper.  Her hair was still wet from the shower and she wrapped herself in a towel for the short stroll to the toilet tepee.  Our Saint Bernard and Chocolate Lab spotted her and shot from under the camper, jockeying to get the prime position for a rabbit chase.  “Don’t forget the snake check,” I kindly offered.  She rolled her eyes but said nothing.  Minutes later, she returned to the camper to finish cooking breakfast while I pondered the glory of the moment. 

 For six months, the trophy wife never complained about our prairie privy, because she is not a princess—she is a keeper.  Over the years, I have met readers who God has also blessed with trophy wives and they proudly introduce them as such.  Rather than being demeaning, trophy wife is an endearing redneck term for a Proverbs 31 wife whose “worth is far above rubies.”                  

    

       

                    

 
 
 
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