Last week I said an emotional farewell to my husband as he set off on his travels. Where to now? *Said in Somerset accent*. Well, he is currently residing in Geneva, Switzerland – land of skiing slopes and expensive beer!
That’s right, my friends, £10 my husband WON’T be spending on a beer!
Every cloud has a silver lining…
After I had bawled my peepers out, a little silver lining begun to shine from out of that darkened cloud. Perhaps being in a long distance relationship won’t be so bad after all? I mean, there has always been something a little exciting about the prospect of being ‘home alone’…
Allow me to explain why…
Not all men suck at housework, there are some domesticated God’s out there! Unfortunately, my husband isn’t one of them! Who needs a washing basket when we have a floor? Who needs to wash the dishes when the housework fairy comes along and does it for us? Who needs to put the toilet seat down when it magically happens all by itself! *Coughs* When I come along and do it for him! My husband leaves a trail of mess wherever he goes. Fortunately, the trail has followed him to Geneva. That’s right! No more mess…
Well, this isn’t necessarily true. I have children, three of them!
And three children equal a lot of mess!
Mr Potatohead explosion I can handle, finding my husband’s leftover spicy beef in the sink, resembling mini Earthworm Jim’s… No. Just NO!
Remote control domination
Men, they like to take control of the remote!
Me: “I’d quite like to watch The Sewing Bee”
Husband: *Develops hearing problem and flicks the remote buttons quicker than before*
Me: *Picks up the megaphone* “I SAID…”
Me: “Oh, forget it!” *Mutters under breath* “Yet another unrealistic, too much guns-and-shooting, gangster film!”
As I say goodbye to my darling husband, I say hello to Remote Control. “It’s been awhile, my dear! It’s nice to caress your buttons once again!” And so a spot of trash TV-viewing commences. Watching reality TV until my heart’s content – without Mr killjoy muttering “How can you watch this crap?”, “Not this rubbish again!” and “Can we watch something else?” on a repetitive loop.
Just me, myself and trash TV!
Shh! Listen. Can you hear that? Yes! That is the sound of the angels singing… HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! As my husband exits the door, so does the PlayStation, via my foot…
However, I can’t help but feel excited at the thought of FIFA no longer being a part of my life! Thanks to my husband’s excessive FIFA playing, I can recite all the football players backwards in order of them joining his fantasy football team. Impressive, huh?
I can wear the most unflattering pyjamas
Finally, it’s time! It’s time to dig deep into my chest of drawers and pull out my onesie! Not just any onesie! A onesie that resembles none other than a fluffy pink yeti…
or worse still, a giant BABY!
Comfort – 100% , Sex appeal – ZERO!
But great for busting some moves in!
I can eat what I want, when I want
Me: “Hello dominoes, can I order a ….”
Dominoes man: “Stuffed crust BBQ chicken pizza, a box of garlic dough balls, potato wedges, two tomato dips and a bottle of Cola?”
Me; “Errrr, how did you know?”
Dominoes man: “This is your fifth order of the week, ma’am!”
Need I say anymore?
I can dance like no one is watching (because no one IS watching!)
If I want to crack out the old Harlem shake, I’ll crack out the old Harlem shake…
If I want to drop it likes it hot, I’ll drop it likes it’s hot…
If I want to twerk…
Nah! You wouldn’t catch me doing that!
But you would catch me doing the running man!
I can sing in the shower
Singing in the shower without any harsh critic’s lurking around the corner. Bliss! What better way to kick start the morning with a spot of A Capella…
Not so great for the neighbour…
Three neighbour complaints and a sore throat later, we feel all the more better.
A big bed all to myself
One big, silky-sheeted bed all to myself. That’s right, no more sharing! (Well, I say sharing…)
I can spread my limbs out …
Well, until this happens…
The reality: Minus a husband, plus three children.
No puppy dog pawing
Ladies, you know what I’m talking about! The husband/fiancée/boyfriend wants to ‘get lucky’, but we are feeling drained from a long day at home with kids/at work. Suddenly, we have those big puppy dog eyes looking over at us, screaming ‘give me some attention’…Next, we have to endure the pawing of bosoms. How can we say no? How can we bat them away (with a slipper?) another time!
No husband = no more bag of excuses!
Sometimes, us ladies don’t feel like doing three rounds in the bedroom department. We don’t want to
slip into squeeze ourselves into our sexy painfully uncomfortable lingerie. In fact, we just want to relax in front of the TV in our yeti pyjama’s!
Monday: “I’m too tired!”
Tuesday: “I’ve just been for a workout, I’m too hot and bothered!”
Wednesday: “I have a dodgy stomach, I wouldn’t want to puke on you!”
Thursday: “My back hurts!”
Friday: *Gives in* “Okay, let’s do it” *Initiates love-making*
... 1 minute later…
“Nope! Sorry, my back still hurts!”
Saturday: “I’ve got a hangover! I feel too ill!”
Sunday: “It’s that time of month!”
Bridget Jones pants
A life without sex means only one thing = Bridget Jones pants! Goodbye, painfully uncomfortable thongs. Adiós scratchy lace briefs…Hello, granny pants at their finest!
Oh yes! That’s what I’m talking about!
Letting oneself go… (Just a little!)
The granny pants go on, I haven’t plucked my eyebrows in a week and I now have some pretty impressive leg hair! I guess I have officially ‘let myself go’ – but who cares? With no one to impress, I may as well grow some armpit hair and go braless.
I can ‘Girlyfy’ the house
Pink unicorn statues and fluffy cushions galore! Okay, perhaps not the unicorns but I did purchase a floral bedspread and some joss-sticks (Chaaa, my husband leaves and my inner hippy comes out!)
After a few short days of living on my lonesome, even the remote control can’t provide me with pleasure. Life isn’t the same without him. Sadly, my husband’s cardboard cut-out isn’t ‘cutting it’. He doesn’t make ridiculous, and often humourless, jokes, he isn’t very cuddly, and he always leaves his tea to go cold!
The huge bed to myself begins to feel lonely, I’ve watched every reality TV show under the sun, and sliding down the stairs in a Santa sack has lost its appeal.
There is a common notion that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Screw that! Absence makes the heart grow damned impatient! This long distance relationship malarkey is lonely! I miss having a manly body next to me (a real one, not the cardboard cut-out kind!) I miss squabbling over the TV remote, I miss his annoying little traits, and I even miss the trail of mess which follows his every step.
And what’s the running man, without someone to do it with?
The lonely (wo) man! That’s what! The lonely woman who doesn’t feel like dancing anymore because she misses the man who makes her feel complete!
Perhaps absence does make the heart yearn that little bit more? Perhaps it makes us appreciate one another all the more? One thing is for certain, we will come out of this experience with the knowledge that if we survive the distance, our relationship can survive anything!
To my wonderful husband,
I am so proud of you.
You inspire me in every way.
Your passion, determination and the sacrifices you make.
Although we are no longer together, you’re always in my heart.
Your loving wife,