Man to a wife, my arse. I'd bloody well hope what we have (so beautiful, so pure, so unendingly glorious~) involves less nagging and dishwashing and more of you admiring my frankly amazing abs.
Also, I'm with Fab on this one. No hitting on Mol. It's weird and you will face the combined wrath of the Prewetts. (Plus, don't kid yourself, Doc. She'd eat you for breakfast. You're a great guy and all, but she is way out of your league)