A Harem fantasy, or if I were a sultan I would have 3 wives...

Esli b ya bil sultan, ya b imel treh jen...
i troynoy krasotoy bil bi okrujen....
(words from an old Soviet movie)
If I were a sultan, I would have three wives. And I would then be surrounded by a tripple beauty!


I have recently decided, that harem is not such a bad concept, after all.

Tonight, I shared this somewhat unorthodox idea of mine with a couple of friends and their (Turkish) husbands.
As we shared a desert at the dinner table, I tried to deliver (in my broken Turkish) the benefits of such arrangement-in response to them making their old jokes about pretty girls.

Look, I said. What is really so bad about it? Just think: As my husband's first, and therefore, most senior and important wife, I would accept a managerial role. My, so far wasted, MBA could add weight to my status. I would slap the newcomers about (so they knew their place) and issue out the tasks. One of the wives could be cooking dinner, another-looking after the children... one more to take care of the cleaning, while someone else could satisfy our husband that night. We could even get one more (a smart one)- to go to work full time to make some extra cash.

And me..........well, I would enjoy endless hours in a spa nearby, do some painting, write a book, or simply read under a shady tree. Because,in my harem dreams there are sunny days and shady trees, of course. Like in any proper harem. Just think as well, what a relaxed,patient,beautifully groomed, loving and caring wife and mother I would then become. Because surely, all of the above mentioned tasks were never meant to be accomplished by one wife, but at least 5.

Everyone laughed, and one of the Turkish husbands got so exited, he turned his piece of cake into a mush with a fork. Look,-I said,-You clearly think that is a good idea. I mean, just look at your cake! How does that sound, I said-to you, a Turkish man, to be such a sultan?

No, -he replied, - You don't understand. Why would one buy a cow if all you needed was a glass of milk?

There you go. Typical men for you, eh. Turkish or not. You give them this idyllic picture, and they ruin it with their pragmatism .