The most beautiful girl in the world

I was best man at a wedding a few years ago. The Bride was lovely as brides tend to be – we had seen her but the groom hadn’t and the other grooms men kept saying to him how lucky he was and how stunning she looked in her lovely wedding gown.

I saw a great opening to raise a point on an issue I had been taught and what is in my opinion vital for every married man to know. So I asked him, to the hearing of the other 6 men present, “What would you do if when she’s walking down the aisle you spot from the corner of your eye, a woman who by your standards is more beautiful than your bride?” I knew my guys specs, and so I painted him a picture. Fair. 32DD. Enough clevage to catch your attention but not so much as to make you gawk. Hourglass. Snatched waist. Glorious booty. 6 inch heels.

You see, it is not inconceivable that on the day you choose to marry the most beautiful girl you’ve ever met, that there happens to be in the crowd, a woman more beautiful than she. Beauty and all the other superlatives of life are notoriously difficult to measure, for as soon as you think youve found a Bill Gates, along comes Jeff Bezos, and then Rockefeller and then Mansa Musa.

I pose the same question here today. You’re marrying Bey but Keri is in the audience, looking peng, or let’s say you’re marrying Lupita but Kelly Rowland is looking juicy on the front row? What do you do?

Gentlemen, if there is one truth we as men must accept, it is that you cannot marry the most beautiful woman in the world, for no sooner had you found her and married her, an even preetier woman will appear

Whatever rocks your boat, be rest assured that your wife cannot be the sole preserve of that thing. Like onyx black skin or a flawless caramel complexion? There’s always someone somewhere who’s darker or fairer. Like an ample derrière or a buxom décolletage ? There’s always one bigger or rounder or curvier

So what is a man to do?
Here’s what.
We must recognise that external beauty is useful for one thing. To draw us close enough to get to know the real person inside, and just like wrapping paper we must be willing to treasure the gift with which it was wrapped more than the paper itself

Reminds me of Christmas day as a kid when my mum would wrap all our presents in colourful Christmas paper. She would have asked us all year what we wanted and if we were good we knew we would get it. So what if my sisters Christmas present was wrapped in a paper that was nicer than mine? I don’t want her gift. Under her lovely paper was a Barbie set. Mine had something I’d been asking for through out the year and it was finally here! A MICROSCOPE!!!