Tuesday, 19 August 2014

What would you get 9 years in prison for?

Given a vote I am almost certain that Hubby would choose me over 9 years in prison for anything but only just.  Which is a very good job because today marks the 9th year in which he may forever regret thank his lucky stars that he sent a random text telling me that he wanted to hug me while all of our work mates sat and drank around us.  Thinking about it; he was probably drunk.  Never mind; his loss is my gain.

As you may or may not have guessed, today Hubby and I have been together 9 years.  In that time, he inherited 2 noisy puppies and an obnoxious 11 year old that refused to believe his mother was 71 and gained another 2 puppies and watched the 11 year old turn into an empathetic but on occassion still obnoxious 20 year old.

I would like to say that he has learned how to do DIY but that would be a flat out lie as would saying that he has learned to stop getting so frustrated by DIY as would saying that I do not find his frustration frustrating.  So much so that I now insist on doing all DIY.

This month also marks the beginning of a time that Hubby and I can get back to knowing each other as a couple because Beautiful B has moved out and taken one of the original noisy (and now very leggy) puppies with her.  I am not sure he feels getting to know me more is a good thing but I do and so far he is getting more meals cooked for him but that could just be because I am on annual leave from work at the moment and so he really shouldn't count his chickens before they hatch.

I have no idea what he sees in me other than the comedy value.  I don't think I am funny, stupidly clumsy and known to speak before I put my brain in gear yes, but not funny.  He finds me funny and I still catch him looking at me with that loving look in his eye so I am doing something right even if I don't know what it is.  It could just be that he is grateful that I do the majority of the cleaning in the house (and by majority I mean all of it except the ironing) because it means he doesn't have to clean or live in a complete hovel.  

Whatever the reason I can be eternally grateful that someone took me on, finds me amusing, puts up with the odd army type instruction when my brain thinks I am trying to get Beautiful B to do some kind of chore instead of Hubby, and all sorts of other weird and wonderful traits (okay, honesty now - I was going to use 2 different words than 'traits' but this blog host does not provide little red squiggly lines to tell me it is spelt wrong - cue the writing of blogs in MS Word in the future).

Take today for example - Hubby knows that I have a list as long as my arm of jobs I want to do - he thinks I don't have to do half of them, he knows that while my heart tells me I have lots of jobs to do to feel satisifed, instead my head is telling me I am on annual leave and should rest.  Therefore, I may well do nothing except write blog posts and watch some of the trillion films and series I have recorded on the TV.  He, of course, thinks that as I am on leave I should do nothing.  

When he gets home from work he will ask what I have had to eat because he knows that when fending for myself I am likely to either eat nothing or eat a yogurt or maybe a piece of toast.  Then evening will arrive and out will come the chocolate and sweets while I play Farmville 2 and watch TV.  This will be after watching an episode of Pointless where I will come out with at least one stupid answer to a quiz question that makes him laugh and tell me that he loves me.  He doesn't care about the sweets, he just wishes I would eat a proper meal at lunch time.

He will have woken up today and wished me a happy anniversary as he does on the 19th of every month even though we are now married and we have an official date to wish each other a happy anniversary.  He has offered to see a movie with me even though he hates movies with the exception of very few.  He has chosen a movie otherwise he risks a horror or a film that is so far-fetched it defies belief.  Pity the film that he has chosen isn't realeased until tomorrow so instead we will stay in, order a takeaway, have an alcoholic drink or two and watch Captain Philips.

He will have watched me walk into at least 2 rooms, stand still wondering what I went in the room for and walk back out again, tripped over my own feet at least twice, burnt a finger or stabbed one with a knife and put something somewhere safe and then not been able to find it.  I will have ranted at something on the news that has annoyed me and danced with Abi Sheep at least once.  I will have scratched Lily behind both ears at the same time so that she sneezes and say 'Ach choo' to her and before the night is through I will pick up a novel to read in bed and then fall asleep before I have read a chapter.  And these are only a few of the reasons he loves me.

So today, Hubby, thank you once again for loving me and my weirdness, for telling me every day you love me, for wishing me a happy anniversary each month, for accepting Beautiful B as your own daughter, taking on 2 noisy dogs and then changing enough to agree to and love another 2 of them.  Here is to another year of me trying to get you to at least put up with doing DIY without getting frustrated and of you convincing me to love myself as I should.

I always have and always will love you with every fibre of my being; I will always be willing to walk to the ends of the earth for you, I adore you more than you will ever know and I will love you until all of the stars fall out of the sky.

Always been, always am and always will be yours.


Ps: if you came here expecting the usual Tuesday dose of 'What I learned this week' something more important came up, you know an anniversary, and please come back tomorrow.  mwah. x

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