The other half

So in just a few days it's my birthday. Every year it comes, and every year I have expectations of great and expensive presents (a surprise first class trip to New York, diamonds, a really nice facial cream that not only rejuvenates your skin but which also creates a portal into a parallel universe when daubed onto a wall - how cool would that be?) And every year I shed a little tear that I didn't receive the most great and expensive presents and that, thrown into the mix, I'm now a year older too. 

However this birthday is slightly different. This year, on the 25th Feb 2014, I will be able to say that I've been with my husband, the one and only Michael Fitchie, for exactly half of my life. Maybe I'm the only one that thinks this is worth celebrating and acknowledging? Who knows. But I think it's epic. 

(This picture was taken one day before the official "will you go out with me" question. He's the one with the eye patch. And not the girl.) 

So he's lush. He's funny. He sometimes really makes me mad because he farts, and it smells so bad that I have to breathe into my sleeve, but he finds it so funny that he becomes weak with laughter, resulting in me getting stroppy with him. (The last time he did that, however, I ended up throwing water on his head. Sobered him up pretty quickly, I can tell you. Hardcore, me.) He's hardworking, like, full on. He's intelligent. He's so good with computers and technical stuff it scares me. He's a bit sensitive. He's a great dad. He gets grumpy when he doesn't get to go on his bike. He's generous. He's a bit of a snob.  He doesn't mind being naked. (I'm currently struggling whether or not to put this in the positive or negative category.)

He's... (Actually, you know what, it has to be a negative. Too many of my friends have seen parts of him they weren't supposed to.) He's....(though we do have a giggle about it, and anything you laugh about has to be positive, surely?) He's really crap at beating me at stuff...like wii tennis. (Totally pan him). He's a great husband. He's sociable. He's kind. He's supportive (even when I was in my cross stitching phase.) He loves to share (like the time I had morning sickness and puked in the car...he had to stop and get out to share the vomiting love.) He's strong...crazy strong. He loves anything poo related. He's extremely talented (drumming, sewing, growing a beard, looking like cheesy famous people).  

He's many, many good things. 

There's more, of course there is, but I have a sneaky suspicion that I will bore you with the details. 

And the laughs we've had together are innumerable. 

And as I write this he's downstairs wrapping all my wonderful presents...I'm almost certain that there will be a silk dress embroidered by blind midgets from china which was started 2 years last October and which has real emeralds sown into the shoulder pads...but if there's not then I'm ok with that because (puke buckets at the ready...) he's the best gift I could have ever wanted for any birthday. He's the gift that keeps on giving (ok, I just threw up a little bit in my mouth and had to swallow it again.) And he does a stirling job of getting my it right. Every. Single. Time. (Though there was that one year when he bought me plastic flowers...)

Love you chap xx