Chick Flick Moment

As you may have guessed from my blog I'm not the most chickiest of women (pink girlishness, is like nails on a chalk board to me). I am sentimental at times, but I'm not big on huge shows of emotion worthy of a Hallmark movie of the week. I just can't handle those treacle-like Disney moments they always seem so unrealistic and insincere, or maybe I'm just way to jaded. However, having said that I was reading Dawn French's autobiography/memoir/letter collection, Dear Fatty, and I was inspired by her thank you letter to her husband Len.

For those of you who don't know Dawn French, she is a tears in the eyes, Poise worthy comedienne from the UK. You may know her from French & Saunders or The Vicar of Dibley. Her humour which can be best described as a good natured taking of the piss of both herself and the world around her, just resonates too well with me for us to be anything other than related. Reading her book I came to the conclusion that we are twins separated by continent, parentage and 14 odd years. Nevertheless we are twins, though I'm sure if you asked her she'd be as equally unaware as I once was, and may want you to produce a picture and description so I can be added to the list of weirdos to be kept at 500m, that's held by her security people.

How often do we thank our nearest and dearest? Not nearly enough that's for sure. So this is my attempt to do so. I only hope I can be half as articulate and entertaining as Dawn. As I've said already, my husband David is my rock but it isn't a new phenomenon, and on reflection I probably haven't thanked him enough over the years. So here's my one off journey into the world of sentimentality and chick flick moments. Savour it as it is unlikely to reoccur (and I will deny it vehemently should anyone ever bring it up again).

Where to start. Well I guess I should start at the beginning. That's kinda the logical place. Though with Bob brain that is not always how it goes. Ok. I still remember that first pash on the dance floor of The Terminus 18 odd years ago. How the hell we stood up so long with locked lips I'll never know. It seems virtually unimaginable, a vivid flight of fancy, now that Bob's in our lives. I really don't remember much in the way of detail due to the consumption of a large volume of distilled beverages (ahh the stupidity of youth), but I do remember it was gooooood! Thank you honey, for making that first kiss such a memorable one.

I knew you were a keeper that first date when you took me to see Edward Scissor Hands, having already discerned my love affair with Johnny Depp. (Though I do think you were in love with Wynona Ryder at that point so it wasn't a completely selfless act). Thank you for accepting my love affair with Johnny, since that point in time, without any hint of jealousy or resentment. Thank you for also buying me the 10th anniversary edition of Edward Scissor Hands for our 10th wedding anniversary. You are a big softy at times and I love it. (I promise not to tell anyone that there is anything soft under that gruff exterior, well except for this one off post, but never again after this. Promise!).

Thank you for all those long stemmed red roses at the Academy. I remember coming home from single service Navy training to find my room filled with long stemmed red roses. And Bacis. How could I forget the Bacis. We should have shares in that company. For those unfamiliar, Baci, or little kisses as it translates from the Italian, are the Rolls Royce of chocolates. Hazelnuty, chocolately, praliney stuff, topped with a whole hazelnut and then coated in smooth dark chocolate. Oh so, so good. Always red roses and Baci around the room. Now that's romance.

Thank you for the year you brought me everything on my Christmas wish list and stuff I had mentioned in passing when we were shopping. How many husbands would buy a red metal container for laundry powder just because their wife said "I really like that".

Thank you for always remembering my love of Chanel No 5 and never buying me crap cosmetics I'd never use just for the sake of it. I stil have that tiny 10ml bottle of Chanel No. 5 that you splurged on, on that frist trip to Vanuatu in 1992 in the little dodgy duty free. No way you could afford it but you did it anyway.

And Vanuatu. Thank you for Vanuatu. Now that was romantic. All you told me was to bring my passport and we were going to the airport. Then you surprised me with nearly two weeks in beautiful and blissful Vanuatu. My first proper overseas trip. Such a surprise as we were getting married in 6 months. I still can't believe you did it.

Thank you for letting me get two great danes despite your rock solid declaration that we would never get another dog after our beloved, rather demented, Bacchus died. Thank you for fixing the fences even though you said that no fixing of the fences was a prerequisite to getting another dog. Thank you for trying (slow and steady progress) to bite your tongue every time Freyja wees all over the floor from the excitement of seeing us.

Thank you for getting up all those nights when the boys were babies and were howling uncontrollably for hours on end and I was a miserable exhausted ball in the corner. Thank you for never bring up that you were on shift work, as an air traffic controller mind you, and you probably needed the sleep more than me to juggle all those aircraft. Thank you for taking on all the footy and cricket games I can't do cause you love the boys. I'm sure they'll appreciate all the effort when they have kids of their own, but there's no hope at the moment, so I'll thank you on their behalf.

The biggest thank you is for always being there and putting up with my crappy health from day one. You've held me up in the shower and at my aunties funeral. You've rubbed my dead white toes in the middle of the shopping centre and made me laugh when other shoppers were looking at me like a freak. You've taken time off work for all my appointments and been my second brain on more occasions than I can remember (hence you being my second brain). You know more about my body than any husband should, so I fully understand your refusal to come into the gastro appointments. There is a point after all.

Thank you for going out in the pouring rain to buy extra salty chips from the fish and chip shop during intermission at our eldest's band competition. You took one look at me, saw how bad Bob was slapping me around and just went and did it without having to be asked.

Thank you for supporting me in all my hopes and dreams. Thank you for everything. Thank you for picking me (and not asking for a trade in, well not too often).

Thank you for all the things that I can't fit in here (or remember).

When your brother said "I hope they stay together for a while" (at our wedding, nice one Mick), who knew we'd still be together you and me, with all the crap we've been through and still go through.

THANK YOU Sweetie.

Ok moments over people. No more Hallmark moments I promise.

But I do encourage everyone to thank that person we never thank enough.

Cheers
Michelle :)

And dearest. I'll discuss your comment that you "bought into the shallow end of the gene pool when you married me", it's not my fault your gene's were so lazy they didn't object! But that's for another day. Today is my Thank You to you. I'll just file that little gem away in my unending filing cabinet, that all women have in their head, for a later date. Luv you!