Tribute to my wife

It’s my wife’s birthday today. She turns 30 er…, sorry can’t complete that sentence as I am just about six inches from her photographs, and photographs tell tales you know. Since it’s her birthday I thought I’d begin by writing a tribute to my wife who in all probability may also be the mother to my children. (And one hopes it ends here).

My wife is a wonderful er… she’s an excellent er… she’s got such a good er… and what about the time she nearly er… and her thought processes are so er… Okay, this may be little tougher than I thought. Good qualities are best looked at from a perspective of relativity. This year my wife has been fantastic. The beatings compared to the years gone by are much less; testament to this is the fact that I can now remove my shirt with less embarrassment in public.

Then there’s the little matter of the promotion in rank. For the last seven years my wife would call or refer to me with the phrase ‘Oh’. This humiliating call, which would earn such derision from the public, especially when used on a PA (Public Announcement) system, is now a thing of the past. Now the call is a far more respectable ‘Oh, you’.

This promotion from one word to two has allowed me the courage to go out to public places even after seven, though obviously not after seven thirty, but then one shouldn’t expect miracles.

Previously if I asked her a question such as ‘Where are we going?’ or ‘What are we doing?’ or ‘Why are you hitting me repeatedly with the table tennis racquet?’, it would take eight successive attempts at a question to solicit an answer. That number is cut down to six successive attempts at a question.

In the past if she’s talking to people I don’t know, she wouldn’t bother with introducing me. However, this year all that has changed.

Now she goes, ‘Oh you? Go away’, and as I leave the circle I know she’s introduced me to her friends because I can hear loud condescending laughter.

Yep, my wife’s come a long way, and on the occasion of her 30 er… sorry, she’s standing behind me, so let’s all say ‘Happy Birthday, Ayesha’. Quiet, she’s saying something. ‘Oh you, go away’. Music to my ears! Music to my ears!