Listen carefully, as I’ll not be repeating this.

Tonight I’m breaking with tradition. I’m writing about yer man who I live with, and I might even be saying something nice about him!

We met when I was still a teenager, a fiercely independent girl, who knew her own mind. Life at the time was far from easy and in many ways I was fighting my way through it. You looked beyond the surface and changed my life forever.

You were tall, dark haired and handsome. Gentle, funny and kind. I can still remember those heady early days of first love, and they make me smile. I fell for you hard, despite the fact you were not from Dublin. You were what we called a Culchie, a redneck, and worse than that you came from Cork!

The years have rolled by and time has not parted us. These days instead of that rush of love and passion, when you arrived home, you are lucky to get the faintest of kisses, or in fact sometimes to even be acknowledged, as I rush out of the house to work or play.

You have frequently featured on this blog, and not always in a kindly post. I have written titles such as “I’m married twenty years and I still hate being a wife”, “My husband bores me”, and “My husband is so lucky he married me”. On occasions my friend has wondered did I go too far? Do you mind?

Thankfully I am comfortable writing about you, as one of your greatest attributes is your wicked sense of humour and your ability not to take yourself too seriously, ( or me for that matter).  However since I began to write this blog I hope you have also noted the many “nice” posts I have written about you. If not I can go dust the cobwebs off them.

So some may wonder why am I being so nice to you today? Have I crashed your car again? Have I booked another night away with the girls?

None of those this time. No today I am writing a post especially for your birthday.

Myself and the four brats all hope you have enjoyed your birthday evening, and being put first for a change.  As you know I love to write, but somehow tonight my fingers slowed. What words could I use that would tell you what an enormous difference you have made in my life? How could I express all that you mean to me? As I continued to write I realised there are not enough hours in the day to write a post about you that I’d be happy credit: <a href="">ashley rose,</a> via <a href="">photopin</a> <a href="">cc</a>

So instead I’ll keep it very simple.

My greatest companion, I  hope we get the chance to celebrate many, many more birthdays together, and that we continue to laugh as much as we do each and every day.

Táim i nGrá leat. xxxx

Oh by the way I have kept the receipts for all your presents you fussy fecker!


18 thoughts on “Listen carefully, as I’ll not be repeating this.

  1. This is absolutely wonderful! Your relationship reminds me so much of Mike’s and mine most of the time. We had a few moments when I was sure I didn’t know him any more and now I realize I didn’t know how ill he was. Getting all sappy with one another usually was followed by “what did you do?” “What are you going to do I’m not going to like?” Or what do you want?
    Your ending was brilliant!!

  2. my gaelic isn’t that rusty that I didn’t know what you were saying there – thought you had gone all mushy,

    and then that great ending ! 😆

    great post, tric

    1. Ha ha. Yes that was the Irish for “I think you’re a feckin eejit”. (Joke in case anyone believes me)
      I must say he did enjoy the ending. I even got a belly laugh out of him, which is rare.

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