However today I am going to get all soppy for a few minutes, then I'll get over myself and retreat into my shell of cool, aloof Britishness, devoid of emotion once more.
The thing is this; I am on my third husband (I'm not actually on him right now, I'm on my chair at work pretending I am working) and so I am more than a little cynical when it comes down to thinking about the future and if you've picked the right one this time etc. As a matter of fact, Perfect Husband asked me once if I thought we'd still be married and in love when we were both old and I replied that I had no idea. He got hurt, but I just meant that nobody can foresee the future so I couldn't possibly answer that question; it wasn't my intention to hurt his feelings but if someone asks me a question I answer it honestly. So poor old Perfect Husband is saddled with a small, eccentric, opinionated, fiery tempered, often grumpy British wife who wears short skirts and far too much makeup. I don't cook but I do clean, and I torture him mentally on a daily basis because I don't tell him what I'm thinking very much and I probably don't tell him I love him enough either, but I do tell him when he spends too much money.
He in return does all the cooking, carries things which are too heavy, picks up all the dog poo in the garden, makes fabulous cocktails, ensures I can listen to British radio stations and finds British tv programmes on youtube (he's now a massive fan of Celebrity Juice, Never Mind the Buzzcocks, The Inbetweeners etc) and generally does all he can to make sure I am happy, cared for, loved, and not too homesick.
Obviously he annoys me intensely too; but I feel that when two people live together this cannot be avoided. We don't agree on everything, we have some pretty heated debates; we both have been known to do the whole "my country's better than your country" thing, although I generally win this one with the mere phrase "Britain has free healthcare so shut up, I win!".......
But I digress. The point is this: yesterday Perfect Husband told me something that made me love him even more, although I probably won't tell him and he doesn't read this blog so he won't know but....
He was at work delivering beer and wine and he was in a cluttered and messy storeroom. He picked up an empty keg to take it back to the warehouse with him, when he noticed something stuck to it. It was one of those horrible sticky mousetrap things, and stuck firmly to it by the last half inch of his tail was a very tiny, very terrified mouse. Perfect husband managed to dislodge the trap and the mouse from the keg, which he then put in his truck. But he couldn't stop thinking about that poor terrified mouse, stuck fast and doomed to die a long and slow death. He went back and spent the next few minutes trying to free it, wondering if it would be simpler to just cut its tail off and hope it wouldn't miss it. However, after a few minutes he found an old trowel in the storeroom and finally managed to scrape the mouse and his whole tail off the sticky trap. The mouse skittered off without a backward glance at his benefactor.
There's a lovely photo here; it's not mine but I think it's very touching and I hope you like it.
And as for you, Perfect Husband.....you are the sweetest, kindest man and I love you for it. But I'm not going to tell you that out loud.
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