A ‘June’ Wedding

So June, you’re finally doing it on Saturday. Taking the plunge. Doing the holy matrimony thing. Walking down that aisle. Gettin’ hitched.

So what if it took 48 years to finally hook up with Mr. Right? That half a century seemed to just fly by, didn’t it? And who knew that Mr. Right was the guy you’ve been sharing a four-panel strip with all these years?

Or should we say Dr. Right--as in Rex Morgan, M.D.

You’re a lucky one, June Gale. You landed a doctor who adores you and respects you and even learned how to cook. Geez. Just go easy on those cream sauces: You don’t want to ruin that wasp waist.

And even though you’ve had probably the longest courtship in history, this is your first marriage. And what bride-to-be couldn’t benefit from a gal-to-gal chat about the secrets of wedded bliss?

After all, this isn’t 1948, when your contact with Rex probably consisted of brushing hands when you gave him a syringe. Had you two hooked up back then, this marriage would be completely different.

You’d have to kiss your nursing career goodbye and become the quintessential homemaker, a frilly apron replacing your white uniform.

For fun, you and Rex would play bridge and have dinner parties featuring your fantastic pot roast. You’d join some charity group and go to luncheons. Yawn.

So pull up a chair and a decaf nonfat latte, hon. It’s just you and me.

First things first. What are you wearing for your wedding night? There’d better not be a Lanz flannel nightgown in your trousseau. Get to a Vicky’s Secret tout suite and head straight for the bra-and-garter rack. Black, please. And remember--the panties go on over the garters, not under. Now June, c’mon, stay with me here. You’re bound to get more of a reaction out of Rex than that one weird half-smile expression he’s had for nearly 50 years.

Besides, you’re a woman of the ‘90s, even though you dress like you’re perpetually in the ‘60s for some reason. You’re standing up for yourself, going back to school, speaking your mind--all admirable traits. You probably haven’t even doodled “Mrs. June Gale-Morgan” or “Mrs. Dr. Rex Morgan” or “Dr. Rex Morgan’s Wife” or . . . what would it be, anyway? Never mind, keep your name.

It’s important in a marriage to maintain your independence and sense of identity. For instance, having different hobbies is a good idea. Rex could talk up golf and you could take up . . . aerobic kick boxing.

And don’t neglect quality girl time. You may be married, but you must bond with other females--like Berna, for instance. She may not be up for doing “La Macarena” at the Tiki Hut, but there’s always shopping. Dragging poor Rex to the makeup counter is going to send his eyes rolling back in his head.

Being with other women allows you to discuss in excruciatingly intimate detail the intricacies of your marriage--better known as the “bitch and moan” session. But whatever you do, you must not let Rex know what you talk about! If he asks, just sigh and say, “Oh, clothes and stuff,” and quickly change the subject. Believe me, he doesn’t really want to know.

In fairness, you should let Rex have his guy time. While he’s not one to hang with his buddies down at the local bar knocking back brewskies, maybe he and some other doctor-types could form a book club or something. Don’t be too nosy about his pursuits, but if he starts suggesting that you build up a two-year supply of canned food, begins stockpiling semiautomatic weapons and wears Army fatigues around the house, I’d be a little suspicious.

And, of course, you need to take time for each other. The two of you are fond of taking walks, which is great--it’s relaxing, romantic and gives you ample opportunity to gossip about your patients. Never take that time for granted.

After all, pretty soon there might be the pitter-patter of little feet! Yes, it’s a big step, but a lot of your neighbors are doing it--Wanda and Darryl, Marcy and Joe, even Mr. and Mrs. Drabble! Don’t hold your breath waiting for Cathy, though (she’s still trying to decide which eye shadow will attract the cutest guys).

Best of luck to you, June. Should your life keep going the way it has been, you’re bound to celebrate your 100th wedding anniversary--and still not have a gray hair in sight.