Before you marry, try assembling toys together

If my daughter ever comes and tells me she's getting married, I will sit down with her and her paramour and offer them the best advice they'll ever receive.

"Here," I will say, handing them an unassembled gas grill. "I'd like the two of you to put this together. If you still want to wed when you're done, we can talk again."

If it's a hot day, the lesson will be all the better.

Of all the things that will test a relationship, none will do it more quickly than working together to assemble a grill, bicycle, or any other complicated contraption. If you'd like to test that theory, select the sunniest, most obnoxiously compatible newlyweds in your neighborhood, give them the gift of an unassembled home entertainment center, and see how long it takes for them to begin bickering at golden-anniversary level.

The central issue is that these things are impossible to put together, how long does it take you to read directions, I can't hold this like this forever, I'm sure there are some pieces missing.

The wife and I recently put together a wooden backyard play system, a toy that is to assembly projects what cold fusion is to physics. I am happy to report that after successful construction, it turns out that my wife dug that shallow grave behind the shed, but never felt the need to use it.

To quickly explain, the wooden backyard play system is one of those things that you, as a suburban parent, are required to own.

It has replaced the old metal swing set, as parents have concluded that it costs more money and therefore must be better for their child's development.

Built from sturdy wood that would otherwise be used for railroad ties, it lets your child swing, slide, climb, and learn to remove splinters from her palm.

It provides your child with playground-caliber exercise without the burden of walking to the playground. You can even fill a section on the ground level with sand, so that nearby cats and other animals can use it as a litter box.

We bought one from a seller on Craigslist, which meant that (A) we saved money and (B) two days after we paid for it, our friends offered us one for free.

The tricky part of assembling the wooden backyard play system, of course, is that it can't be done. Which means that it definitely can't be done by two people.

The reason we were able to succeed is that we bought this particular system used, so there were only six or seven large, heavy, awkward sections for us to fasten together with rusty bolts that wouldn't fit through the holes.

My wife's method for assembly was to lay one piece flat and then have me hold one of the heaviest sections so that one end was lifted half-an-inch from the ground, lined up with the bolt holes and not moving, for about 30 to 40 minutes as she reread the directions and looked around for the bolt that was in her front pocket.

My method was to point at the section of play system on the ground directly in front of her and say, very sweetly, "Lift that." At which point she spit venom at me. And I would point at it again and she'd become very annoyed until finally I put down the extremely heavy piece I was holding, read the directions, and said, "Please pick up the 'top swing rail' . . . the thing I've been pointing at for 10 minutes."

Anyway, we somehow got through it, and I'm still optimistic about the marriage.

But I may put off putting in an outdoor pool. Those take assembly, and I've noticed that the wife never filled in the shallow grave.