Whince upun a thyme, there was a man who married in his youth the most perfect woman for him. She was beautiful, charming, witty, independent, sexy and she loved her husband dearly. It caused him the utmost grief when she died not long after their marriage, and he mourned her for many years.
In time he overcame his grief and married again, but this woman was pretty only because of the volumes of makeup she wore, was witty only in a painfully sarcastic way, was independent only because she could find no one to be dependent on, was never sexy, and if she loved her husband, it was in the most twisted fashion imaginable. He soon regretted his decision to marry again, and booted the nagging witch as quickly as possible.
After more time, the man eventually found another woman who was at least the equal to his first wife, if not better. He was in luck, she did not die, nor did she prove a harpy after the vows were made, and they lived many happy years and had several children. It did not take him long, in fact, to get over what had proven to be a very brief mid-wife crisis.