Imagine we were prudes

Imagine we were prudes and the only way we could sleep with our wife was if we could statistically prove that she is capable of maintaining good health through a lifetime of happy, healthy eating.<br><br>A woman who, after marriage, would only ever eat her chicken fried, her pasta with creamy sauces, and her bacon cheeseburgers with extra cheese and three pieces (and god forbid we even consider low-fat ranch on her wings).<br><br>She wouldn't have to be fat, she would only need to be capable of maintaining weight and health without ever seeing a salad, and articulately express her feelings about salad eating. We would need to be able to go to sleep every night knowing that we didn't trick her into marriage under the false pretense of healthy eating and then discover after the fact that she's not actually interested in wings.