hen pecked

After being with a man for 7 years who left his finger nails on the couch arm to floss his teeth with you would think that ANY other man would be an improvement. 

Growing up, like any young girl, I fantasised about the house, the garden, the job, the dog, and the kids and of course the tall, dark and handsome man to keep me safe and content.  Wanting to take a spade to the back of his head somehow never featured in those warm and fuzzy fantasies – funny how things change. 

My previous relationship went through the usual ‘honeymoon’ period undoubtedly like everyone else’s, although being only 17, I didn’t think it would end before my 18^th birthday!  When our relationship inevitably ended after 10 years he sent me away with this worldly advice ‘Love is NOT like it is on the T.V’.  Now, between you and me I have seen enough ‘rom coms’ and read enough ‘chick lit’ to know that he was talking utter bollox (or so I naively thought).  I WOULD find my Prince Charming and he WILL love me for who I am, lumps and bumps and all and my life would be full of rainbows, singing birds and tranquillity.  Unfortunately after being with my new man and now husband for 5 years I’m inclined to agree with him.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am very much in love with this delicious dream boat of mine who has the most scrumptious bottom I have ever had the pleasure of squeezing but there are on occasions an extremely fine line between love and hate.  A very good friend of mine often says that relationships are a delicate balance on a knife edge – how right she is! 

In my previous relationship my ex was for want of a better word a slob and could often be found still in bed at 7.30am when he did in fact start work at 7.00am.  I felt more like his housekeeper than his fiancé and revelled when I washed a £20 note in his jeans because he was too bone-idle to check his pockets before leaving them strewn on the bedroom floor.  So when I was to embark in a new relationship I was determined NOT to be the maid and ooohh how the tables have turned.  I’m not here on bended knee, rosary beads in hand, confessing to being the world’s untidiest person but I will admit that since my yummy husband and I have settled into our delightful abode I have…shall we say…let standards slip.  So the house is a little dusty, so the washing basket is overflowing and the bath contains remnants of my last head-to-toe de-fuzz session…do I deserve to be yelled at?  Do I deserve his infamous DQ (Drama Queen) moments that cause an argument that denotes his silence for hours, the answer you are looking for here and I don’t mind helping you out is…NO.  However that does not stop him whining about the wet towels I leave over the bed or the mountain of shoes at the bottom of the stairs, it seems that HE is now the nagging wife I used to be and in the words of Marge Simpson “It’s aged me horribly”. OK help me out here…I’m running out of mental excuses…perhaps I do need a kick up the backside after all.

And so it does seems that love is not like it is on the telly or in books – it’s better!  It’s real. In my experience it involves commitment, passion, and effort and it makes you work bloody hard for its rewards.  Love is not about money or presents, flowers or chocolates, (though they help!!) it’s about sacrifice, compromise and lots and lots of patience.  The fact of the matter is this – Love is like a fart, if you have to force it, it’s probably shit! 

Hugs and kisses

Miss Piggy x