He’s my longest ever boyfriend, actually by quite some considerable time.
He’s a bloke who loves the simple things in life, but rarely gets them.
He’s genuinely tall, dark and handsome and he’s my very own
International Man of Mystery.
Here’s a wee tribute to my husband since he so kindly let me off all childcare duties on Saturday for the Aussie Bloggers Conference. And see above a photo of his bunions, I’m not saying they’re his best point or anything.
‘Why, Seana,’ I hear you warble, ‘do you call him the International Man of Mystery?’
Well, it’s simple. My International Man of Mystery (or Int’lMoM as he will laboriously-but-gloriously be described henceforth) is a peripatetic oilman. Not one of those hairy-arsed oilmen, by the way.
Int’lMoM scoots around the world drilling for oil; this is bad news on the single parent, four kids, no rellies front, but great on the air miles collected score.
And why the Mystery bit? Well, even after all this time; 15 years, four kids, three countries, nine houses and two cats, it’s still a mystery to me:
* how he survives as the only vegetarian on the oilrig? Doesn’t he get beaten up just for knocking back the whole cow sandwiches etc etc and on that topic
* how can a vegetarian be so FUSSY when it comes to eating vegetables!!
* why does he have to go to Yemen/Tunisia?China/West Africa/New Guinea to look for oil when EVERYBODY else’s husband just pops off to the local servo.
* whether he’s really, really aware of what a lucky, lucky guy he is to have me around; I do tell him frequently, but sometimes he looks incredulous unsure.
* OMG where does that steely discipline come from? How can he get up every morning at 5am and meditate, every morning. Could he not share some of that discipline around?
Does your husband move in mysterious ways? Or is there no mystery left after the years, the kids, the washing up?
