Today’s post is a slightly different flavour to what I’ve been writing about lately, but it’s a special occasion. This weekend was my husband’s 30th birthday. I don’t normally write much about our relationship, but I wanted to pay some sort of tribute to him for his birthday (regardless of whether or not he reads this). I know of creative people who do all sorts of fancy shit for their spouse’s birthdays – they’ll paint pictures of them, they’ll write songs about them, the whole shebang. I am not that talented. I do, however, have a blog. A pretty mediocre blog at that, but, let’s be honest, writing a bunch of crap on the internet is all I have, so here we are.
I toyed for ages on what sort of thing to write. I didn’t want to go for anything too mushy or soppy, so in the end I went for the post I do best – a good old list post.
You make amazing brownies.
You introduced me to Peep Show, The Big Bang Theory, and That Mitchell and Webb Look.
You provide me with free tech support (except when it comes to my work laptop – which is a Mac).
You know exactly when to quote In Bruges, Peep Show or That Mitchell and Webb Look.
You’re annoyingly optimistic.
You’re a grown-ass man but you still draw dicks on things.
You bring me a cup of tea every morning before you leave for work.
You refuse to disturb Tilly when she’s on your lap.
You buy me wine/gin when you do the food shop.
You took me to see my favourite musical.
You’re always willing to sing our party piece after a few wines (it’s Shut Up by the Black Eyed Peas if you’re wondering).
You make the food shop more entertaining by playing the “angry couple in the supermarket” game (“PUT THE HAM IN THE TROLLEY YOU DICK”).
You tell me filthy jokes at inappropriate moments (our wedding photos being a prime example).
You buy me roses every Valentine’s Day.
You get sassy whenever you’ve had a couple of glasses of red.
You pick me up and drive me home when I’m drunk.
You always give Tilly a smooth before you leave for work.
You play with Tilly when she’s hyper.
You send me Tweets about baby animals and cute looking inanimate objects.
You manage to stay calm when I’m REALLY not.
You make me laugh during wildly inappropriate scenes in Grey’s Anatomy.
You smooth my hair when I’m anxious.
You never get pissy with me when my IBS makes it hard to eat.
You tell me I’m pretty, even when I look like a beaten up packet of budget ham.
You make me laugh when I feel like crap.
You make me feel safe.
You kept me sane throughout the pandemic.
You made my lockdown birthday a brilliant one, and you put a party hat on Tilly.
You don’t get mad when my OCD rituals get out of hand.
You’ve put up with me for nearly 13 years.
Happy Birthday Husband!