My True Valentine

I am sorry for the blurry quality of the photograph but I was laughing so much…  Despite my amorous adventure in Mexico, Courtship by an Angel…, there is only one true soul-mate for me.  Teddy!!!!  We both forgot about Valentine’s Day this year and he is currently on vacation in California.  Yes, it really is a new brush for Teddy wrapped in pink chiffon.  Many years ago Teddy made a terrible mistake and bought me a peg-bag (for hanging up washing) and a kitchen clock for Christmas.  I have always wanted to get my revenge and this week I did.  We really did need a new brush and Teddy mostly uses it to carefully clean up our utility room every morning at 5 am.  He scoops out the litter boxes, feeds Toffee and gives her medicine.  Now that is a true Valentine.

When he saw it propped in the garage, he burst out laughing, as did I, and I think that is our recipe for success.  He is romantic and silly and still looks damn good naked.  I was very shallow when I met him and fell for his six-pack and blonde hair.  After 35 years together we have had the most romantic vacations such as falling into a bed of roses in Istanbul, getting very frisky in a mirrored room in the Hard Rock Hotel in Palm Springs but we have also helped give enemas and removed zits from awkward places.  Teddy most amuses me when he wanders around the bedroom with just a t-shirt on with his appendages sticking out the bottom.  His bottom looks amazing for his age and I like to squeeze it.

As I told Angel, my husband is really very romantic, much more so than me.  We love snuggling and spooning.  Some sexual intimacy has faded but our erotic intimacy has not.  Life changes with each decade.  We play a little game each night called hand sex where we pretend our hands are having sex.  Recently he initiated this in a restaurant and I was mortified.  No one could possibly know what we were doing but it has become our secret pleasure.

We go out for brunch every Saturday and he holds hands across the table, looking into my eyes, sometimes whispering that I am beautiful or my eyes are so blue.  We still occasionally dance in the kitchen or he has a quick feel of my boobs or bottom which results in a playful slap.  Mostly I say, “Don’t touch what you can’t afford” and go running through the house to escape his clutches.   What touches me the most is when I remind him of my mother; I had a complicated history with an alcoholic mentally ill parent.  Teddy could see through all of that to the vulnerable, naïve, beautiful soul that was hers.

BUNNY LOVES TEDDY to Pluto and back!

 

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Honey do hunk

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I am laughing so hard as I upload this post. We are both back at home and struggling to get back into a new routine. Before New Year I had de-caulked the bottom of the shower and made various pointed comments about Teddy repairing the caulk since he now had some time on his hands. It still wasn’t done when we got news of his mum’s death. This morning Teddy got up and got ready to sort the shower in his night shorts and t-shirt. I said that he didn’t have to do that right away but he made an innocent comment about how I had mentioned the ‘honey do’ task frequently. That was it – I burst into tears both at the idea of our new life and the loss of my mother in law. Teddy was perplexed but understanding. We chatted through all my worries, which was mostly about affording health care (we can) and feeling useless about not being able to support him for a change.

We moved past that and I got all the tools ready for him to do the task. In truth, I think he finally decided to do it because he really wanted a proper shower… I went off to get my emissions test and cried in the car because I don’t know how to do these things either. When I came back from Jiffy Lube, he had somehow got the metal enamel paint on his night shorts and onto his bum. I burst out laughing and then tried to remove the paint. We tried mineral spirits, then I used a magic sponge followed by nail varnish remover. He howled with pain which made me laugh more and then I went to get my camera.

He must be incredibly sensitive because I seemed to have really injured him. In the future I will do the ‘honey do’ tasks and he will do the state sticker stuff. He is now behaving like a puppy with his paw raised up in distress. Steroidal cream has been applied and I am sure he will recover eventually but may never forgive me. 🙂

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Teddy’s bum burn

Resolution No. 3 – be nice to Teddy

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We were at a marvelous Scottish New Year’s Eve party or Hogmanay and our friends had set up a unique photo booth. After a few refreshments, we looked as relaxed as newts. Perhaps that’s a Scottish expression. The photo was a little grainy so after some ‘discussion’ I agreed to let my husband upload a free photo software program, Photoscape, on my computer. This was difficult – don’t touch my computer!!!! Eventually my myriad programs would not fix the original photograph so I surrendered with trepidation. OMG, it’s fantastic! I was able to make it look fun with a ‘bandicoot’ filter – what the heck does that mean? Then I added a fancy frame and VOILA!

My third resolution, which I doubt will last 12 hours, is to nice to my husband. He would hate it if I was really sweet all the time – he didn’t sign up for that but I could add some laughter to the snarky remarks. Less, “reallys???” More,”you are so gorgeous and clever” without a hint of sarcasm. Tonight I told him he was the best looking guy in the room and I meant it. Nobody else could make me laugh so much and turn me on at the same time. That’s like a superhuman ability, isn’t it? SEXYFUNNYMAN, perhaps?

A bad day

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Bunny and Teddy in Baja

My husband called me today, “How has your day been?” Immediately, I knew that he had bad news. He works in oil and we knew that there was a possibility of redundancy. He had been laid off and I felt a sinking of my stomach. I wasn’t quite sure what to say but told him to drive carefully on the way home. We have been preparing for this since the dramatic drop in oil price. I could tell that he was worried that I might fall apart but I didn’t.

He is a geologist with specific skills. When we first married in 1982, he had a job with a small consultancy. He had been working in Kuwait and things looked good but then…he was made redundant. It was devastating for him and he drove around all afternoon taking photographs before telling me. I was stiff with shock – I had a part-time job and we were already struggling to pay the mortgage and utility bills. Almost immediately he was offered a job with lesser status but the same salary for the sister company. His pride took a knock but at least we could pay the mortgage.

From that moment on we were careful with money, paid off our mortgage in our 40s and saved relentlessly. It was a valuable life lesson but harsh, nonetheless. We are fortunate, compared to most. We still have no mortgage, no debt, two cars paid for but what next? There are half made plans; opportunities with small oil companies; possible contracts in the Middle East but still nothing concrete.

I feel guilty that my mental illness makes it difficult if not impossible for me to be the sole wage earner. That said, I could probably get a job in the short term. His company has given him a generous pay off so we can relax over Christmas and then make definitive plans. Strangely, my thoughts today were with the people who jingle the bells for the Salvation Army. They have reached rock bottom and yet still have a sense of optimism. They seem grateful for every donation and cup of coffee offered.

We have drunk too much cheap Trader Joe wine today but know that life will improve. I was concerned for him because he was unhappy at work but couldn’t afford to move in case we lost essential benefits. Thank goodness we have lived in a third world country and are able to put life in perspective. He will get excellent references because he followed the rule: “Be good to everyone on the way up because you never know when you will be on the way down”. He is a good husband, provider and the love of my life.

The Peterhead Situation

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Many years ago my husband and I were shopping in our nearest large town, Peterhead. We lived in a rural agricultural area – the nearest large city was Aberdeen, 30 miles away. Some of my husband’s family is from Peterhead which is the largest fishing port in Europe. We must have been bored because there were few shops or decent restaurants. It was in the middle of the day, we were walking along the main shopping street when my husband grabbed my arm with a panicked look. “What is it,” I asked with concern. “I really need to go to the bathroom”. “Okay, we can go get some lunch and use their bathroom”. “No, I need to go to the bathroom right now and it’s a poo!” I quickly located the public restrooms (that should never be used by humans) and pointed him in the right direction. My laughter had remained inside, but as I watched him waddle off trying to keep his sphincter under control, I just collapsed laughing. When he came out I asked if he had a tummy problem but it was apparently just a gigantic poo that had to come out instantly. Using those bathrooms must have been just as scary as the problem. He just needs to mention The Peterhead Situation for me to fall apart laughing but also look concerned.

There is now spit all over my lap top as I am laughing so hard with these romantic memories. Around about the same time, we had a small inheritance and bought ourselves a Superking bed. They were very uncommon in Scotland and we paid almost as much for the bedding. My worse half had been out at a business meal and I think I was already in bed, almost asleep when he came home. In the middle of the night, he shook me and said, “I have had an accident in the bed, we need to change it!” Still sleepy, I asked precisely what happened and he had pooed his pants after eating bad mussels. I really didn’t want to get up so just suggested that he take his pants off and move to my side of the bed – it’s 6ft wide, after all. Then he really got upset, disgusted at himself and at his slothful, sleepy wife. He made so much fuss that I changed the bed with very bad grace, all the while berating him for eating something as stupid as reheated mussels. Nag, nag and harrumph!

He has mostly learned to eat sensible food except the time he ate nuts at the airport bar in Cairo. Really?? Apart from hepatitis, there are so many illnesses you can get from shared nuts in a third world country. He threw up for 5 hours on the plane – he is such an ass. We have been married so long (33 years) that he now looks at me before he makes his choice at the restaurant. The wait staff look amazed that my shake of the head can change his mind – but they have never cleaned mussel poo out of a Superking bedding!!! He is going to love me for this post… 🙂

PS This is what he looked like at the time of the incidents which is why I didn’t divorce him for lack of sphincter control…