Lisa Scott ponders the idea of extra husbands.
I don't see why you can't have several husbands. Society frowns upon polyandry, but I think it would be awesome. The Bari people of Venezuela, the Inuit and roughly two dozen societies on the Tibetan plateau have all practised multiple husband-ism, and not just as a way to get work done around the house. Draupadi, a queen in the Indian epic Mahabharata, had five husbands and they can't all have been doing the weed-whacking.
Anthropologists have documented social systems for polyandrous unions (by the way, do not google ''multiple husbands'' unless you want to read the story of 39-year-old Christina Balzali who stabbed her husband multiple times after he yelled out another woman's name during sex) in a wide variety of environments ranging from the Arctic to the tropics and the desert, where it wasn't cheating but ''an environmental response''. Meaning, I think, that they had simply worn out the first one.
Which is exactly what happened to me. I wore the economist out when I sold a claw-foot bath on TradeMe and he suffered a back injury lifting it on to the buyer's trailer. I made $31 on the deal; the bill for his physio is closing in on $2000. A sunk cost, I believe that's called. Oh well, accidents happen, the best you can do is get a prescription for 500 ibuprofen and move on with your life.
Which brings me to my many-grooms-make-light-work concept. Yes, I've ''got a man in'' before - I'm not too proud to admit I've hired a hubby - but, as Lord Sewell discovered, it's not the same when you have to pay for it. Far better if chores are done out of love and not as a result of months of nagging followed by a short burst of screaming. As mentioned, the system has historical precedence, especially in rural China, where the husband's brother was often employed as a stand-in during his absence. Any children conceived from this temping were considered full heirs to his resources. Unfortunately the economist doesn't have a brother, and I can't see his sister being into it. Colette wrote about man-juggling in The Pure and the Impure although none of those lovers were brothers or good for much more than lying around sighing and blowing their fringes out of their eyes.
OK, here's the plan: while it's nice to be with someone who makes you laugh, if they made you eggs Benedict, even better. So one of my extra husbands could be a chef. Also, it shouldn't take a meltdown similar in scale to a 3-year-old's tantrum to get the lawns mowed. So one could be a landscape architect.''
Would one of them be Caligula?'' asked the economist.
"Be great if someone could take up the slack. Just a day off, even.''
I sensed some reluctance. Why are academics so intransigent, so change-resistant? A gardener/handyman, a chef, a ravisher and an economist: that's four. No-one needs an artist or a musician (I've been a muse, it requires a thicker chequebook than I currently possess). Now, where would I put them? Borer Towers is very small. I'll need to draw up some kind of roster.
While this is an incredibly good idea, I'm experiencing some push-back. You'd think I was trying to tie the country up in an unwanted transpacific partnership whose details are extremely murky.''
Lady Chatterley's lover wasn't all things to all women,'' said the economist. ''She never had him up to the house, for example. Be like a chimp's tea party.''
Good point. Several husbands means several different personality types. Variety being the spice of life, I'm accepting applications. Simply email me with ''extra husband'' in the subject line and a brief description of the skills you'd bring to the union. I can't promise you a rose garden. We don't have one, plus I'd be the first to admit I'm not perfect.''
What are some of my more annoying traits?'' I asked the economist.
"Do you want the honest truth?''
''Of course I don't!''
"Well, your beauty is annoying. It's amazing how anyone can put up with it. And I hate to be negative but mathematically your idea doesn't work, given the shortage of men in New Zealand. It makes more sense if I was to share myself around.''
Like that's going to happen.
"You're not allowed,'' I told the economist, in another example of the fabulous double standard that keeps our relationship alive.
"Why would I want to?'' he said.''
I've got three rolled into one. It's like living with Virginia Woolf, Julia Childs and Brigitte Bardot. I don't need another woman.''
Oh well played, that man.
