Legal Valentines

I love my husband as much as the next life-sucking-stay-at-home mom, but I've got to ask, why have prenuptial agreements gotten such a bad name? One attorney refers to them as "legal valentines," assuring couples that it's only through a prenup that a couple can have true wedded bliss. What am I missing out on?

Prenups aren't as grim as they've been made out to be. It turns out you can liven them up a bit by adding in "lifestyle clauses." Does your finance watch too much football? One couple agreed the husband would only watch one football game per Sunday. Does your wife have a midnight snacking habit? Don Johnson convinced Melanie Griffith to agree to give up her property worth $100,000 if she ever went over 120 pounds. This is just the tip of the iceberg. With prenups quickly gaining popularity couples are finding no vice too trivial to address in the prenuptial agreement.

Some of my favorite are the "in-law" clauses. One husband agreed that if he swore in front of his in-laws he'd have to pony up $10,000 per curse. Another level headed couple decided the maximum amount of time they would ever be required to stay at their in-law's home was two days. Yet another couple signed an agreement that their marriage would be void if their respective mothers-in-law ever spent the night at their homes. This is the stuff of true love.

Only a few months past my 21st birthday I tied the knot with my darling hubby. He owned a 5 year old Toyota Tercel and I owned a box of old Manga comic books. Other that that, we were running on love alone. In our impoverished state, the thought of a prenup never entered my naive mind. Little did I know money is no longer the meat of a prenup. After some quick research I discovered one wife who contracted her man to pay her $100 for every minute he was late. Another enterprising woman convinced her husband to work until he was 65 to keep him from lolling about to house in his boxers for too many years. What was I thinking? Although my husband is generally good about helping out around the house, I'm kicking myself for not contracting him against wearing trouser socks with his gym shoes (his favorite vice) or blowing his fog-horn nose while I'm sleeping. Better yet, I could have made him do the dishes for every time he neglected to tell me how stunning I look when I wake up in the morning.

There is a fine line, however, between love and hate in constructing the perilous prenup. America's infamous couple, Bennifer, never even made it down the isle after drafting a prenup which stipulated Ben would pay Jennifer Lopez 5 million dollars every time he cheated and 1 million every time he lied about cheating. The moral of the story? Ben Affleck is a lousy, lousy infidel and isn't even worth marrying for his millions. Any of you engaged to him should seriously reconsider - or at least make the fine $10 million per cheat.

For those of you living in the state of New York a prenuptial agreement should be mandatory. It's reported that the divorce rate in New York is eight times higher than the national average. This is no surprise considering most couples in their tiny Manhattan apartments are forced to share a bathroom sink. One level-headed NYC couple had thought of everything. They agreed that even the $3 toll to cross the bridge would be split between them. I tremble to think what would happen if the husband didn't have exact change.

But what if your fiance doesn't think a prenup is a good idea? I found a article at AskMen.com which the groom can use to dissipate his betrothed's concerns. The author directs men to "ask her to be logical about the situation. Although this will likely be difficult for her (it is for most women), if she really cares for you, she'll put forth the effort." Alas, I fear a marriage built on logic would have never worked for me. Our marriage is based on the idea that I'm crazy, he's patient, and kids can only get so messed up by their parents before they leave home. But should Spike ever start eying my eBay account and see how much money I've made selling Peeps Windup Toys, I may have to consider a "nuptial agreement." You'll never take me alive, Spike!