My Perfect Man
Jaci tagged me, so prepare to get really, really soppy.
My Perfect Man doesn't try to solve all my problems, but he does strive to understand them. He knows when space is needed, and when to crowd me. When to acquiesce to my wishes, and when to walk rough-shod over them. He knows when, "leave me alone," means, "I need a hug," and "I'm really down," means, "make me laugh."
He knows when to be bullied, and when to stand firm. He knows when to push.
My Perfect Man thinks I've only ever cooked "maybe two" dud meals in twelve years of togetherness including eight years of marriage. (I'm a good cook, but he's being generous.. ;-) ). He knows that in spite of the passion of my incredulous denials, Amanda Barrie did indeed play Cleopatra in Carry on Cleo. He likes Fred Basset, After Eight Mints and obscure texts on medieval warfare. He knows that, "I love you, too. Now bugger off." warms my heart more than a thousand sonnets declaring undying devotion. He knows that talking nonsense is more romantic to me than talking sense.
My Perfect Man will clear the cat litter every day so that I don't put myself or any potential pregnancy at risk. And he doesn't moan when I coerce him into having four cats. He does laundry, hoovering, washing up, cat feeds, camping and incredible orgasms.
He'll apologise if he wants to watch football. He'll beg me to stay and watch with him, because he, "likes it when I'm there," but won't stop me going to write, either. For books, he comes up with excellent land-rover based plot elements, identifies plot holes, and inspires hero hair.
My Perfect Man loves me. When I work out why, I'll let you know.
I fell in love with my Perfect Man somewhere in the middle of a laugh, in the middle of a field, in the cab of a tractor twelve years ago. I'd loved him before that, but when the world spun and I lost my breath I knew I was in love.
He was the first man to make me feel breathtakingly beautiful, and he still does, every day.
My Perfect Man is my husband, my lover and my friend. He was my first man, and I hope to God he'll be my last.
6 Comments:
Sigh. That was so lovely.
Give your guy a huge squeeze from me - just because.
Lori
Hmm, your perfect man sounds pretty similar to mine. Except I'm pretty certain the limit of cats is three *g*.
Did so, Lori - he rolled his eyes... ;-)
No, no, no, Tess! There's always room for one more...
Sigh. That was so lovely.
Lori already got to give him the squeeze, so you can just flip him a v-sign from me. ;-)
That's so sweet! I told dh he was in danger if you ever came to the US. He said, "Is she pretty?" I answered, "Of course! All my friends are pretty!"
Awww... now do that whole "L" on the forehead thing and call him a "LOSER" from me!
Love you kiddo and that Loser of a husband of yours!!
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