Mrs. Jesus was not interested in her husband’s avocation. She often found herself reminding him that she had married a carpenter and that she would be happy indeed, if he stuck to nailing things up and binding things with rope---thank you very much. Theirs hadn’t been an arranged marriage, they’d married for love. The wedding had been small, but elegant—just a few local notables, her parents, and her two sisters—and required the slaughtering of only one calf. Amidst the merriment of the celebration, no one would have dared imagined that within a year, she would find married life so un-fulfilling and thankless. One day, by the river, when her older sister whispered to her about whether she had ever thought about divorce, she grew pale as tallow, and confessed that she didn’t think her husband’s father would be pleased at all, if she had. Not at all.
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5hWSnOC9BzUDL5bfo2...
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