Sparky Strikes Again

Dear Husband,

It’s a very special sort of person who has the innate talent to be as observant and aware as you are of everything that goes on around you. Sometimes I marvel at the unexpectedness of what comes out of your mouth. Like on the weekend for example. Since the puppy woke us up quite early, we were up and about in enough time to utilise the morning while it was there and not run straight into lunch before we really got going. I decided to wash my hair, a task that is never really accomplished in less than 20 minutes for me given its thickness and length. So I let you know that this was my intention and then disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower.

Predictably enough, about 20-30 minutes later, I reappeared with a towel wrapped around my head turban style into the living room where you were still watching television. As I assumed you had noticed in our years of living together, I often wrap my hair in a towel after I wash it as it keeps it from getting my clothes and whatever I am sitting on afterwards from getting wet. Wet clothes and wet upholstery never really make for a pleasant experience. Not long after I had reappeared (with the turban) however, we decided to go next door to visit the neighbours.

Whilst we have the sort of easy relationship between us and the neighbours where we definitely don’t stand on ceremony with each other, I decided it would be a good idea to ditch the towel first. I’m actually not above walking over there in my pj’s as you know but since I did have to go out into the street first, I figured sans towel was more appropriate. I’m not that much of a bogan yet. When I removed the towel from my head however and started to comb my hair, you looked at me and said “did you wash your hair!?!”.

Um……yes. Yes I did. After I told you that I was going to wash my hair, that was indeed what I did. And then I came out wearing a big purple towel on my head. It shouldn’t have surprised me that whilst you were watching television, there were not enough brain cells left to actually pay attention to what I was telling you but can I just ask – why did you think I was wearing a towel wrapped around my head? As a new fashion statement perhaps? You have absolutely no trouble identifying if you can see my underwear through my clothes or I’m high-beaming or something is gaping where it shouldn’t but when it comes to noticing a big purple terry-towelling towel wrapped around my head in a turban, you are seemingly oblivious.

Hopefully obviously yours,

Your Loving Wife

* Photo taken at the Medieval Fayre in Doonside this year

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Pearls Of Wisdom

Dear Husband,

Not sure what it is about the last couple of weeks but you seem to be dishing out the pearls of wisdom on an ongoing basis. So of course, I like to keep a note of these titbits because I wouldn’t want them to go unnoticed. Or to waste. That would be a travesty. These things should be saved for posterity:

1.      Every time I do something wrong, its just your hormones.

Of course, why didn’t I think of that! Although I did point out to you that, by your own admission, you just put forward the premise (all by yourself I might add) that you are actually doing “wrong” in the first place. Its not my fault therefore that you are causing me to be upset / annoyed / disconcerted and various other things besides.

You then proposed however that “wrong” was completely subjective notion and it was really only “wrong” because I thought it was wrong. You also supposed that I was indeed erroneous in “thinking” that you were wrong and that I was only thinking that way due to my hormones. Because of course, all capability for rational thought in females disappears once elevated levels of hormones are present ie. in pregnancy. So you were actually not wrong after all. Genius. It obviously takes a male to figure this out.

2.      I’m not lazy, I’m energy efficient.

This seems to be your new catch cry. And your reason for not getting out of bed to turn the light off when some other sucker will do it (ie. me). Or your reason for asking the pregnant lady to get up off her chair in the dining room to walk past you in the kitchen in order to take something out of the fridge which is less than a metre away from you as a “favour” to you while you are just standing there. Why do I suddenly have the feeling of déjà vu? I think we’ve been here before. And just so as you know, energy efficient is not the term I’d use…

3.      I can’t come to work today because I am pre-sick.

I think everyone has those days when its really hard to get motivated in the morning. When we don’t feel our best and we’d just prefer to roll over and go back to sleep rather than get up and face the day. We both had one of those mornings recently and you told me that I should just stay home because at least I had an excuse. I advised that having a baby is not an excuse to not go to work and that I was just a little tired – also not a legitimate reason not to go to work. According to you though, being tired is sometimes worse than being sick at work and if you’re tired then that probably means that you’re getting sick therefore you are really “pre-sick” and should probably take the day off anyway as a precaution.

So those little gems were from the last couple of weeks but who knows what is waiting just around the corner. I can’t wait for you to (try and) bamboozle me with your next piece of brilliance.

Awaitingly yours,

Your Loving Wife

* Photo taken at Sculptures By The Sea

My Rock

Dear Husband,

You are my rock. And you do rock. But the reason I came around to this notion is through a thought process with which you would probably find issue. Basically, I decided last night that perhaps instead of your other name being “Sparky”, it should be “Peter”. Which means “rock”. Well, actually, it means “stone” but you know, close enough.

So I decided this last night when you were busy “tsk tsk tsk”ing me for something completely irrelevant. Like being snuggled up all cosy in bed before you’d made it back to our bedroom after we shut the puppy in the kitchen for the night. Or the (in my mind, completely necessary) singular eyebrow raise when you kept going and shaking your head at the same time. You were tsk tsk tsk-ing me and it sounded just like a rabbit, or, well, what I imagine a rabbit might sound like. What Peter Rabbit might sound like.

Then I thought of the times when you weren’t trying to mock scold me and it occurred to me that at some of those times, it is occasionally I who am mock scolding you. Because I have noted that periodically you like to behave like the boy who never grew up. And whilst I’m no Wendy, it has crossed my mind on occasion that you may just have a few Peter Pan tendencies…

So between your Peter Rabbit impersonations, your Peter Pan tendencies and your moments of startling brilliance as “Sparky” (I did once tell you when we were trying for “Button” that I wanted to pick up a pregnancy test and your first response was “Why?” to which I wanted to respond “You can’t seriously be asking me that question!?”), I figure you’re tipping the scales towards “Peter” at the moment.

And hey, its better than “Mary” – because I’m sorry honey but you do still pack like a girl whenever we go away anywhere. If anyone is going to take “everything but the kitchen sink”, its not going to be me.

Jokingly yours,

Your Loving Wife

* Photo taken at the last Sculptures By The Sea

Baby Showers

Dear Husband,

I just wanted to give you a gentle heads up that you may have missed the point of the baby shower. Completely. Over the last couple of weeks, you have been coming up to me with various gift ideas and I felt it was my duty to strongly suggest that these would perhaps not be best received or embraced by our friends, and well, me. The most glaringly inappropriate of these ideas I felt were the following:

  1. A lawn service for three months.
  2. Cash towards home renovations.

In case you were under the misaprehension, baby showers are not about your dislike of home handyman-ness. To be honest, they’re sometimes not really about the baby either. They are however usually for the baby. And to answer your next point, no, having cut grass so we don’t lose the baby in the lawn somewhere and getting a wardrobe built so we can get all our clothes out of the baby’s room doesn’t count.

Baby showers are about:

  • Making the mother (me) feel better about looking like a beached whale
  • Buying something that the giver will hopefully catch the baby/parents using at some point when they next see them (wardrobes don’t count)
  • Offering a consolation prize for the fact that “the belly” has now become public property and everyone wants to touch it
  • Buying boring and or expensive baby paraphernalia that the parents “think” they require for the newborn
  • Looking awesome in front of the other baby shower guests buy coming up with the best gift

or alternately

  • Blessing the parents with items they either need or want for the good of their impending child

Basically, people like to buy stuff for the baby. Like clothes and blankets and toys and books. Especially as you can get things that are relatively nice for relatively little. No one wants to say here’s $20, buy yourselves half a shelf with my love. So I’m maybe thinking that I should have veto rights on any sort of “baby registry” list if we get to that stage.

Just so as I don’t end up with a subscription to Home Brewer or anything like that.

Pregnantly yours,

Your Loving Wife

* Photo taken at the recent Vivid Festival.

Just For The Record

Dear Husband,

As you are aware, I occasionally like to note the things you say down. Sometimes because they amuse me. Sometimes because I think they might come in handy as ammunition proof later. So I thought I might share some of those with you now. Totally because they were amusing of course…

DH: I love it when you REmember me, not when you DISmember me! Two very different feelings. One is like Ahhh….and the other is like ARGH!!!

By the way, I would just like to point out that at least the last three times you were knackered accidentally, it was the puppy, not me. So credit where credit is due, yeah?

DH: Lack of understanding is not the fault of the explainer. It is the explainee who is the edjit!

Ahh…so when I think you are talking nonsense, clearly I am at fault because only an idiot wouldn’t recognise that you are ALWAYS right. Is that it?

DH: You agreed.
ME: Tacitly.
DH: Don’t use big words in the morning. Save them for later when I don’t know what they mean but I’m awake.

Yes dear. Sorry.

DH: Are you cold? Do you want me to go back so you can get a jacket??
ME: No, I’ll be fine.
DH: I just want to make sure you’ll be warm enough…
ME: Says the man in the t-shirt when its like less than 10 degrees out…
DH: Yes, but I don’t feel the cold.
ME: That’s right, they do say no brain, no pain.
DH: No. I’m numb, not dumb. Can’t you stop picking on me all the time?
ME: I could, but you make it so easy.
DH: You’re never nice to me.
ME: I’m nice to you lots of times but you just say yeah, thanks, whatever, and focus on the bad stuff. Maybe you should learn to take a compliment.
DH: I tried but I failed.
ME: So you gave up trying?
DH: No. I gave up failing, and by proxy, the trying too.
ME: I think you are trying sometimes…

So don’t you sit there thinking that I have the monopoly on being trying. That’s all I’m saying.

Lovingly yours,

Your Loving Wife

* Photo taken at the Medieval Fayre in Nurangingy.

You Say The Darndest Things

Dear Husband,

Sometimes you really do say the darndest things so sometimes I really have to write them down. Like the other night when we were discussing dying. Not in a morbid way of course but in the way that has become a somewhat long standing joke because both of us maintain that we will be the first to go. Neither of us want to be the partner that is left behind. But in the way of things, once we start discussing who will go first we then start considering the method in which we might go.

Ever considerate and loving husband that you are, you promised that you would do your utmost not to go whilst we were, shall we say, “in the bedroom”. I said I’d be extremely grateful because I’m not a necropheliac to which your immediate response was “well I wouldn’t expect you to keep going”.

Thanks Honey.

Lovingly yours,

Your Loving Wife

* Photo taken on one of our trips to the zoo.