Time with the LSH

The Long Suffering Husband and I have been together for a tiny bit over 30 years and married for a smidgen under 24. That is a long time for anyone to have to put up with me.  He is a man of extraordinary patience.

Recently, I've been harder to live with than ever; dragging myself through a working week to collapse, grumpy and fit for nothing over the weekend.  He has responded by getting on with jobs that I would normally do and playing lots of golf.  This weekend, however, was the first in a long time that I've felt more like myself, so we spent time together doing the boring things that couples do that you'd never think you'd miss.

We walked the dog, went to the supermarket, the allotment and the garden centre. We had a walk round B&Q and went to the theatre.

We saw Noises Off at The Mercury, which is a side-splittingly funny farce. The LSH came away concerned that his sense of humour chip had broken. "I know everyone was laughing but I just don't find things funny anymore," he complained at the end. "The only thing that makes me laugh now is you!"

It's good to know that I have my uses, even when I am tired and grumpy.

He had laughed all weekend. He laughed when, in the supermarket, he had been suddenly inspired by the tape measure in his pocket to see how tall I was.

"Are you measuring me for my coffin?" I asked,not unreasonably. 

"I'm not getting you a coffin," he chuckled.

"That's fine. I'd rather have a cardboard box. It's such a waste to burn all that lovely polished wood and brass fittings."

"Anyway, I've told you I'm going first," he reminded me.

"Well, you're having a cardboard box too then," 

"I want a proper box, though," he protested.

"It's such a waste. I wonder if we could re-use it? You know, once the little curtains close and the organist plays lots of wrong notes too fast, they could take you out of the box to chuck you on the fire. Then we could use the box for other family funerals."

"A rental scheme? You do make me laugh," he said.

I don't see why. It's just practical.

Then when we were in the garden centre I bought a present for my grandma, who is suffering because she's in hospital. It's not what's wrong with her that's causing the suffering but the fact that she isn't allowed her daily G&T.

The LSH looked at it and started laughing. He was reluctant to tell me why but eventually he said that they should make one that said, "Julia's Garden. Fuck Off!" Again, I don't know what's funny about that: it would be practically perfect. He had, after all, spent some time with me at the allotment being nice to people and talking to them, while I pretended to be engrossed in a weed, muttering, "Allotment Nazi!" under my breath.

He makes me laugh too. He is a complete numpty with a computer, which is a surprise considering he is an IT expert at work. He had managed to book tickets for the theatre for the week after. Luckily, while he was getting stressed about his mistake and I was laughing the nice people at The Mercury allowed us to sit in the emergency seats, rather than going home. His texts are also very funny but I am concerned that he has saved one of mine (a shopping list) so he can get his car to replay it to him every time he needs a laugh. It's not my fault the car grouped the list in threes: Chocolate dog food, pizza cotton wool, balls cucumber coke!

I'm glad he finds me funny because really, the man deserves a medal.