Today is my 7th wedding anniversary. To mark this day, here are seven reasons why I think I my husband is practically perfect in every way.
He is the very best father I could have hoped my children would have: endlessly patient, hands-on, loving, kind. A perfect example of what a good human being should be.
He is my best friend and my partner in everything. Our relationship has changed a little over the years – we don’t get drunk and ruin language teachers’ parties any more (a story for another time). But now I can spend twenty minutes discussing whether Andy from CBeebies is really tall or just relatively tall and the rest of the CBeebies team are short – and then have an imaginary sweepstake guessing the actual figure for his height. And this classes as an evening’s entertainment.*
He bakes brownies spontaneously. Often, the first time I realise is when the smell floats out of the kitchen. It’s very hard not to like someone who regularly surprises you with baked goods.
He remembers. He remembers to put my laundry in the dryer when I would have gone to bed and forgotten. He remembers to bring me ketchup with my meals (a very big deal. You wouldn’t like me without ketchup). He remembers a million little things every day that make all our lives easier.
He cries at Pixar films. He tries to hide it, but I’ve seen him surreptitiously wipe his face and then pretend nothing has happened. Please don’t mention Bing Bong to us. The pain is still too near.
He is an excellent chef and does all the cooking. Seriously, my meals look like this:
Every trial we face: sleepless nights, anxiety, autism – every worry about work, money, life – he is there, making any trouble bearable, making it the only life I want to be living, making him the only person I want to be living it with.
Happy anniversary, dearest.
*6′ 4 and a half, if anyone is interested. So pretty tall.
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