Before I got married I had six theories about bringing up children; now I have six children and no theories.

The line is a wry confession about the gap between abstract ideas and lived experience. It contrasts the neatness of “theories” held before parenthood with the messy, humbling reality of raising actual children. The joke turns on the symmetry of “six theories” versus “six children,” implying that each child (and the daily demands of care) dismantles a prior certainty. More broadly, it satirizes armchair expertise and the tendency to prescribe rules for others before facing the same trials oneself. Its enduring appeal lies in its compact, self-deprecating wisdom: experience often replaces confident systems with practical improvisation and empathy.

1) “Before I got married I had six theories about bringing up children; now I have six children and no theories.”
2) “Before I was married I had six theories about bringing up children; now I have six children and no theories.”
3) “Before I had children I had six theories about bringing them up; now I have six children and no theories.”