I promise to love you as much as the Chica­go Cubs and not hold your black and white striped dress against you. From this day for­ward, I will lis­ten to all of your com­plaints about the mall if you say them dur­ing the off sea­son, and promise to re­tire my base­ball cap and face paint for pub­lic out­ings. I will love you in sick­ness and in health, from this day for­ward, un­til death parts us, or you be­come a White Sox fan.


I promise to love you as much as I love my cred­it card and not hold your poor fash­ion sense against you. I will on­ly show you my new clothes dur­ing com­mer­cial breaks and promise to keep you in the lat­est Cub fash­ions. From this day for­ward, I will make sure your lucky shirt is washed for every game day, and will have plen­ty of pota­to chips on hand. I will love you for rich­er or poor­er, as long as our cred­it lim­it stays high.