One special feature of a traditional Jewish wedding is the yichud room. It is a private room for just the bride and groom in which only the groom and bride may go.

At Ashkenazic weddings, the yichud room comes immediately after the chuppah and before the reception. At Sephardic weddings, the yichud room typically follows the reception (possibly because the bride and groom need their kibbeh fix). In either case, the yichud room serves one primary purpose: creating the first moment in which the newlyweds are alone at last, whether they like it or not.

Halachically speaking, the term yichud pertains to the laws prohibiting a man and woman from sharing a private room together unless and until they are married. The irony, of course, is that some married couples often can’t stand to be in the same room with each other.

Technically, the bride and groom should remain in the yichud room for at least eight minutes, which is plenty of time to get into a meaningless argument about things that don’t really matter like whether Uncle Mordy was sleeping during the chuppah ceremony or whether Aunt Malkie was unimpressed with the flower arrangement. In the yichud room, the bride and groom also are supposed to break their wedding day fast, which is a wise idea before partaking in endless hours of festive, intense and borderline psychotic hora dancing.

To ensure that the sanctity and dignity of the yichud experience is preserved, there are certain things that one spouse should never say to the other spouse while in the yichud room. Here are some examples of what never to say in a Yichud Room:

What’s your name again?

In all honesty, you were my second choice.

Your family is paying for this wedding, right?

I now understand what is meant by the term “buyer’s remorse.”

Do you want to file for divorce now or should we actually give this a shot?

Let’s hope the 10th time’s the charm.

Do you mind if my college roommate moves in with us?

Did I ever tell you about my pet rhinoceros?

FYI: My snoring registers on the Richter scale.

My parents forgot to tell me to “marry up.”

Here’s the good news: Our kids have a 50/50 chance of looking like me.

I wonder if a couple has ever sued their matchmaker?

One question about our marriage: What is the cancellation? Oh, there is no cancellation policy.  Well then, how about refunds or exchanges?

My parents will not be over for dinner every single night. They play canasta on Tuesdays.

My mother will not be our interior decorator. She also has opinions about the exterior, including the driveway, patio and yard.

My parents will not be moving in next door. They’ll be across the street.

Is our honeymoon tax-deductible?

Did I happen to mention that I’m in a witness protection program?

I bathe no less than once a month.

I don’t need to keep up with the Joneses. I need to surpass the Joneses in every single way. I will be off probation in a month.

I do not double dip. I triple and sometimes quadruple dip.

I need quality me time so I prefer to vacation by myself.

I do not overspend. I under earn.

I am a true romantic in that I love to be loved.

I always clean up after myself, eventually.

I never lie. I manipulate, twist facts and strategically select versions of the truth.

Final thought: Treat marriage like a horse-drawn carriage. Enjoy the ride, even when it gets a little bumpy.

Disclaimer

Letters, commentaries and opinions appearing in the Cleveland Jewish News do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Cleveland Jewish Publication Company, its board, officers or staff.

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