My wife and I have been married for ten years and we still share a closet.

By 'share,' I mean her clothes live *in* the closet, and mine live *on* that one chair in the bedroom.

On our first date, I meticulously planned every detail, ironed my best shirt, and practiced witty banter.

Now, for 'date night' at home, my main concern is whether these sweatpants have enough elasticity left for a second helping of pizza.

I was talking to the groom about his expectations for married life

He said he's looking forward to having a partner in crime, and I think he's going to get that – every time they look at their joint bank statement

I thought I knew my family well before planning our wedding.

Turns out, some relatives are like volatile chemicals; best kept in separate containers on the seating chart.