I knew I married the right guy when, after I rear-ended the car, he looked at the damage and laughed, before enveloping me in a big bear hug.
I knew I married the right guy when he steered the kid with the poopy diaper away from me because I muttered “I HATE POOP” out loud as said kid presented me with the smelliest arse EVAR.
I knew I married the right guy when he tried to register my interest in the iPhone 6 with my service provider without my asking for it to be done.
I knew I married the right guy when he dabao prata for me late one night, because I wanted to have some and I was no longer pregnant.
I knew I married the right guy when he brought me teh-si every single day when I was staying in the hospital with Zac.
I knew I married the right guy when he, knowing that I was torn between ordering a risotto and the oysters, decided to get the risotto so that I can have both.
I knew I married the right guy when I realised that I still like him enough to keep him, even though he didn’t get me any gifts nor flowers for our anniversary.
What a ride it has been, this past six years.
<3 Here’s to many many more years ahead! <3
Happy birthday to my love.
You have been the best thing that has happened to me.
Thank you for being my rock, the one person who can make me laugh, and whom I can be all bimbo and silly with.
Thank you for being the best father our kid(s) can ever have.
Thank you for sacrificing your waistline to pig out on waffles and ice-cream with me.
In fact, let’s make a pact to have waffles and ice-cream ALL THE TIME. Shall we?
I love you. Always. xx
Ah, my old fart.
I mean, my husband.
Mr Thick is turning 40 very soon and I decided to put together a nice little celebration for him. You see, he hasn’t had much of a birthday do since two years ago, when Aidan came along. In that month of March, we were both frazzled and exhausted and I hardly had any wits about me to plan my next meal, let alone a birthday. Last year, we were in Perth with my family and our plans were scuppered, thanks to the Easter holiday which closed all businesses and the lovely Italian restaurant that I had planned to check out. We ended up at San Churro, where I managed to sneak a cake under his nose, complete with a candle.
This year, I decided to up the ante just a wee bit and planned a surprise do for him. It was meant to be a Steve Jobs-themed party and I had requested my friends to come in black tops and geek glasses. But ah well, most of our friends did not come dressed up according to the theme, which was a real shame.
Anyway, I had everything done. Props, checked. Delicious cake from Mrs Ergul, checked. Food, catered, checked. Friends to meet at a certain time before food is delivered, checked.
Yay surprise gonna work!
Until it didn’t.
The food delivery guy showed up a good half hour ahead of schedule and camped outside my door. He rang me and I said I wouldn’t be able to let him in until 430pm and he said fine, he’ll wait. Husband went into the kitchen to get a drink, saw the delivery guy waiting outside and asked why there was someone there. I lied through my teeth and muttered something about it being the neighbour’s clearly, since I hadn’t catered anything.
And then that annoying man went into the kitchen AGAIN and the delivery guy saw him. The delivery guy promptly WAVED AT MY HUSBAND and said, “HELLO, DELIVERY!”
My confused husband then opened the door and told the dude that he had the wrong house. The delivery guy insisted that he was at the right place and husband asked to see the receipt. Of course, my name was there and Mr Thick turned to shoot me a suspicious look.
Meanwhile, I was trying to dig a hole into the floor of our flat and crawl into it.
“Is this one of your surprises again?” he asked, trying hard to contain his amusement but failing.
“GO AWAY INTO THE ROOM AND DON’T COME OUT UNTIL I SAY SO,” I commanded. He walked off, with a grin on his face.
I duly gave the delivery guy a scolding (“There is a reason I specifically said 430, right?! I told you to wait, right?! You spoil my surprise for my husband lah!”) and hauled the food in.
Five minutes later, our friends arrived at our doorstep and shouted “SURPRISE!”
You know what, someone up there is clearly trying to tell me that I should steer clear of planning parties. All my parties, so far, have “failed” in one way or another. Next time, I’m just going to buy a cake and say, “NAH. Happy birthday.”
Valentine’s Day is pretty much a non-event for us every year and I wasn’t planning to pen anything down at all. Many years ago, we decided that it was an overpriced, commercialised phenomenon and we wanted to have nothing to do with it.
But then, as fate would have it, I was asked by my students to help them out as a guest for their radio talkshow assessment today. And the theme? Why Valentine’s Day, of course.
As I looked through the list of questions that they had prepared for me, my horror grew.
Tell us about your first valentine’s date (if you remember)
What’s the most extreme thing you did?
What’s your favourite memory/sweetest thing your husband did
NOTHING. CAME. TO. MY. MIND.
Seriously. I dug and dug around in the archives of my mind and I came up with NOTHING.
Of course, the fact that I am extremely sleep-deprived and therefore has an impaired memory (it’s been medically proven!) doesn’t help. And, err, we haven’t celebrated Valentine’s Day in, like, forever. Plus, our first Valentine’s Day was over 14 years ago.
So I sent Mr Thick an SOS text. And he was as equally clueless as I was.
I thought I was going to ruin the students’ assessment because I would have nothing to say, seeing how I remember nothing. But, as it turns out, I did have things to share and as I was talking, it struck me that I, and we, have really changed and remained unchanged over the years.
Back when I was much younger (UH-HMM), I had these silly, fancy notions of love and romance. You know, the grand gestures – dinner, flowers, the works. But now that we are older and wiser (and really tired because the other love of our lives DOES NOT SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT), my ideas of the perfect relationship and the perfect date have changed.
At the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter what I do with my husband. We could be sitting down on the sofa and watching Glee together, or sitting down for a cup of coffee while the littlest of us all slept in the stroller, or lying in bed and talking about our day. It’s all very simple, and mundane, and boring, and nondescript.
But it doesn’t matter. Because we are doing it together.
And my idea of the perfect relationship? When two imperfect souls meet and fit perfectly well together.
I don’t know why I never realised it earlier but it struck me one night that hey, when he starts telling me about a joke or making a funny remark, I instinctively know where he is going. We can complete each other’s sentences. And we pick up each other’s slack. When one is sick, the other takes over automatically. And we are always fighting – to let the other charge his or her phone, to let the other have the last juicy bit of dinner etc.
We fight – but for each other.
And that’s what really counts, at the end of the day, even more so than beautiful flowers and lavish gifts.
Happy Valentine’s Day to the best partner I could ever ask for. <3
Last year, I wrote that 14 is going to be even better than 13. And I was right. Because this year has been so damn wonderful.
We started out the year as exhausted parents of one and we are ending the year as exhausted parents of one, with another on the way. But it’s not just our roles as parents that have made this year a marvellous one, it’s that you and I are still crazy in love with each other.
It’s so hard to imagine. 14 years we have been with each other, that’s 14 years of dealing with all those insecurities and mismatched expectations and external frustrations. The insecurities and expectations, we have long gone past that. And what’s left is still the undeniable truth that we make each other laugh and love.
When I was a kid, I wanted to marry a handsome jock who would buy me a house and treat me like a princess. When I grew up, I married a geek who adopted two cats with me, bought me an iPhone docking system and treats me like an equal. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Because you make me laugh so damn hard, every single day.
Because I still look at you and think, damn, I love this man so much.
Because we complete each other’s sentences.
Because we understand each other’s crappy, lame jokes.
Because you have stepped into fatherhood so perfectly and naturally.
Because you buy me ice-cream and milkshake when you sense that I need one desperately.
Because you rub my feet and calves when I am tired (and you have even taught our son to do it!).
Because you make me hot ginger tea when I am feeling sick with nausea (like last night).
Because you are the shining example to our boy on how to treat a girl right and with respect.
Because you let me get that 10 minutes of extra sleep while you take Aidan out of the room to feed him breakfast and change his diaper.
Because I buy too many pretty plates and you merely shake your head at me.
Because we have such fun cycling dates at night for ice-cream.
Because I never feel alone – never ever – when I am with you.
Because you think I am awesome and super capable and the Best Mum In The World.
Because you love me so damn much and you let me know it.
There – 15 reasons for the 14 years that we have been together. I have outdone myself and you are waiting for me to go for our anniversary lunch.
To many more adventurous, crazy, laughter-filled and lovely 14 years ahead of us.
Love you many many.