So my hubby cuts me mangoes. See photo already can see he so meticulous and symmetrical. Gosh, I can do the same actually but in lesser symmetry and proudly – uglier.
|He cuts me fruits cantek-cantek all the time. Mango, starfruits, jambu, grapes.|
My hubby cooks me spaghetti bolognese with grilled chicken as sides after work. I could do the same, but in higher grease and salt content.
He climbs the roof to fix it DIY while his emo wife screams and screams for him to come down and ask some other pro to do it. After that, he cleans the toilets of my entire house, and still have time to make me tea and buys me seedless grapes to eat.
He buys me a Swiss watch because he cannot tahan his corporate wife wearing an Adidas digital watch to work.
|He bought me a Swiss, but not Federer.|
He scolds the gangster neighbour for me at the front gate of my neighbour because his wife got mad of the neighbour’s parking antics. I horn horn horn and my hubby, full of guts, scolded da gangster. Now hubby more gangster than I have ever knew. I strictly believe he would go prison because of me.
|He does the gangsta behaviour in public occasionally.|
He explains to me historical facts of China before I went Beijing, and tells me in details about the Nascar Lines and how it is connected to the Egyptian pyramids. He explains the SAS (that army thingy) to me, while I mind flies off blankly and eyes fixed on this month’s Harper’s Bazaar.
|He plays Napolean Blownapart here.|
He translates Chinese movies to English (real time) and re-explains the story line/scene because that movie don’t have English/Malay subtitles. He’s expert in chow sing chi movie.
He runs with me every weekend slower than his usual pace like slow snail like dat…because of scared his wife kena kidnap. Mosquitoes also faster.
Things he does for me. Makes me a spoilt princess.
I am never a drop-dead romantic person. I told (more like warned) my hubby since day one we met that I would never(?) do lovey-dovey things with him. PDA is fine, flowers and fine jewelry are fine (of course they are fine! haha), but I told him: NO wearing same shirts around, NO matchy-matchy colours, utter respect for my big laughs, NO sharing of DNA in any form unless his well-done steak looks better than my medium-rare chicken, NO ending a race together holding hands, Don’t expect this girl to bake a cake or cookie for you, You eat all my homecooked food without complains, etc. So this is how it was, how it is today. Pity him. Hahaha.
Then things start to wean as time goes by and I realised he is not that romantic actually. Ok, let me rephrase: I realised that he is romantic in a way women is not likely to identify with. As time goes by he is giving me less flowers and cards and jewelry, but he is getting more affectionate and responsible of me and my life. He cares. He makes time for me every single day. He make me laugh everyday. He laughs at my jokes even not funny just to please me, I know. So stupid.
|My hubby is a latte art destroyer and this particular act always breaks my heart….|
|….but I close one eye.|
Why am I documenting all these hubby antics? I really don’t know. Maybe anniversaries does make me go emo. One day probably I’ll look back (knowing that relationship ages with time and if I get Alzheimer), I can smile back and remember, yes, remember this good old days and read them like bedtime stories to my cucu-cicit.
|One year ago, yesterday. Bliss.|
(Disclaimer: Again, I am no relationship expert)
Most important we don’t change each other and accept each other. What he doesn’t like, he close one eye; what I don’t like, I don’t go changing him. I close my eye too. We don’t go tolerating each other but accepting each other’s traits. Things can change, we change it by our own merits without force; if we start to go into changing things that we CAN’T change, that will be the horrific term called: controlling. And nothing more confusing than giving you 1 more good advice: Discuss with each other before doing/deciding anything huge. I am an independent girl and he is an independent man, but we are hubby-wifey, needs 100% discussion. No golden ratio in relationships. Weird, we do fight but lesser and lesser and lesser (amen!) this past year, but when argument happens, I will start crying, then he cannot tahan wan…sure he gives in (secret strategy). That’s our fighting rhythm. Hahahaha. I know he knows.
|He’s not only my Napolean, but my Legolas. Only shorter.|
Happy Anniversary Hubster! Aren’t you lucky to have found me 4 years back?!