Saturday, 11 April 2009
I was talking to a friend the other day about compatibility and how she has nothing in common with her partner at all, though she loves him dearly. That got me thinking. “Come to think of it,” I said, “I have nothing in common with Himself either.
He likes jazz – I don't much. He loves boating – I don't. I love being outside and walking – he will take the car whenever possible, and is quite happy poodling around indoors (unless on a boat). I am quite sociable whereas he'd sooner be by himself – or with me. I love going to the pictures, out with friends – he'd rather watch a DVD at home.”
I stopped – because the list could go on ad infinitum, and wondered what exactly we DID have in common. Then I got it. “A sense of humour!”
This was illustrated yesterday prior to the arrival of my mother which necessitates a big spring clean (well, tidy and hoover) which is a most rare occurrence in the Flowerpot household.
“We must have a big tidy up,” said Himself, sitting down with the paper.
“No, no,” I said, not looking up from my book. “I dusted last week so it can't be bad.”
Silence. We looked at each other and laughed and laughed until Himself was crying and I had stomach ache.
So that's something else we have in common. We're both sluts.