On January 6th, we had been married for 28 years. Gosh, doesn't time fly when you're having fun (not)...Well not always, but I guess most of the time has been pretty good otherwise we wouldn't have lasted this long! We usually go out for dinner to celebrate, but this year we didn't, for two reasons. Firstly the weather was so AWFUL - very hot and windy, so we decided to stay home in air-conditioned comfort. Secondly, we are severely financially embarrassed. So rather than spend $70 plus on food and drink, we zipped out to Coles, bought their last crayfish and a dozen prawns, and had them for tea with mango and avocado salad. Followed by strawberries in meringue nests, washed down with a bottle of white wine.
Some friends phoned to wish us a happy anniversary, so we invited them to come over after dinner and watch a movie or two. So, more wine and a few nibbles later, we watched Kenny
, and roared laughing nearly all the way through. Now, for those of you not living in Australia, this movie would probably leave you scratching your head about us crazy Aussies. In fact, it probably left a few Aussies scratching their heads too! But having worked in the toilet hire industry for 15 years, I saw the funny side of it much more so than most. As well as that, a lot of my Better Half's friends and family have called him Kenny for years (and he hates it), and now he cops it even more! He used to hate being called "Mr Wilson" (remember "Dennis The Menace"
?) and the guys at the bus depot used to take great delight in calling out 'Good morning Mr Wilson' when he arrived at work!
Today, my Mr Wilson was not happy, Jan. (overseas readers click here
to learn about our Jan). I have been nagging him for years to do something about the cabinet he has been keeping his DVD collection in. It is literally falling to pieces because he has crammed DVDs, CDs, and videos in to a space meant to accomodate one quarter of what he has put into it. So today (Sunday) I dragged him to the huge Ikea
store in Melbourne to buy (not just look!) something more suitable. He had his blinkers on before we even got there. It took us ages to park the car, and once inside the store, he walked around with glazed eyes, not even wanting to be there. I found all kinds of book cases and cabinets but he found fault with them all. After about an hour we had a loud fight there among the crowds of customers (some of whom were going through a similar scenario by the sound of it), during which he tore strips off me for hogging the house with my books, linen and craft stuff, while he only had the lounge room for his hobby. So I threatened to move all my stuff out and live somewhere else where I wouldn't be in his hair any more...Oh, happy anniversary....
Well, he eventually discovered something that was to his liking: a cabinet of glass fronted drawers which we figured would hold about 500 DVDs (he has about 300) and a few videos and CDs as well. We got to the check out point about 5.45 pm and joined the queues. Ikea staff were walking up and down telling everyone that the computer system was down and they couldn't take credit cards. Many of the customers just left their trolleys of goods where they were, and walked out. Ken wanted to, but I said no, just wait. Sure enough, as we approached the register about 20 minutes later, their system came back online again and we were able to pay for our cabinet.
After all this drama it was getting late and we were both tired, so we stopped on the way home to buy chicken and chips for tea. Ken said he was going to leave the box in the garage overnight, as he was too tired to even contemplate bringing it upstairs, let alone assembling it. For those of you who don't know, Ikea sells furniture in kit form. All the bits in a box (or two) along with instructions in cartoon form (just in case one doesn't speak Swedish presumably) and the purchaser puts it together when he gets it home. I say 'he' because I never heard of a woman yet who would attempt to assemble these kits! We got home, ate our tea, and I thought we would relax and have a relatively early night in bed. Well golly gee, you'd think I would know better by now wouldn't you - 28 years on? Here it is, 1.45 am, and Mr Wilson has all the bits of cabinet all over the lounge room floor, cursing me as he tries to make sense of it...my fault because I MADE him buy it. He has just poked his head around the corner and said he is going to bed. I asked how was it going and he said gloomily "it's not going very far at all".
Anybody reading this who is even slightly religious, would you mind saying a little prayer for me/him/us? Tar muchly..