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THE 7 YEAR B"'ITCH"

The seven year B”itch”

My husband and I have been married for 7 years. Our anniversary for the last 3 years has gone something like this.

It’s September 6th. Sometime during mid-morning I glance at the date on my phone and oops…remember that is our anniversary.

Rather than surprise my husband, I forge a plan of attack to make him feel as guilty as possible for forgetting my …oops our, special day’

Tui returns from work and I greet him with sullen expectation. …He says hello with a kiss then proceeds to play with the kids, a dark, brooding, figurative cloud grows as each second of un-acknowledgement passes.

Then I strike. “Do you know what date it is?” I spit out accusatory.

Like a child caught with a mouth full of wine-gums, (another true story) he freezes, eyes wide in acknowledgment of his sin. He walks back into the hallway….

And vanishes.

30 minutes later he returns warming the house with his smile, unable to penetrate my ice queen demeanor. A bunch of $9.99 flowers from Countdown in hand he walks to me with that relaxed island charm, plants a kiss on my forehead and hands me a handwritten card which has (if I am to be honest) a beautifully thoughtful handwritten message enclosed.

BUT…

I take the low ground

AND receive these like a sulky brat who can only get water with their happy meal. I disregard his efforts and persecute him for forgetting, yet again my special. …Oops our special day.

I proceed o bring up all his romantic Faux pas; the most treacherous (for him,) having me blindfolded on Valentines day and walking me into a room to reveal my very romantic gift of an ‘Ab Circle pro’ carefully wrapped with over $10 worth of paper.

Guilty as charged, his punishment for the remainder of the night is

1.Giving his undivided attention to massaging my very unattractive feet

2.A dictatorial approach to back scratching where the itch must be relieved within a matter of seconds

And worst of all

3 subjecting him to an hour an a half of subtitled hell watching an art-house film starring Gérard Depardieu

So the 7-year itch, our anniversary is more like penance for Tui. For him that day deserves to be described with a b in front of it.

Marriage is an odd thing. We entered into this arrangement fully groomed, hearts a flutter at the sight of each other and big plans to be the couple where the

Women: maintains clothing size to single digits,

The man;

A natural hunter-gatherer effortlessly uses his strength to perform tasks such as climbing a coconut tree to retrieve food without breaking a sweat;

We have:

Beautifully well behaved and clever deliciously cute Halle Berry and ‘the rock looking children,

All the while saving the world together.

The reality is that Tui and I have gotten to a point in our relationship that is uncomfortably comfortable.

If I can’t find my undies, I wear his. If he cant find his jeans, he wears mine, I shave my legs for him on his birthday, my love handles extend out like a ballerinas tutu, we dont hold in our farts when the other is around and you would be lucky to see Tui climb a flight of stairs with ease let alone a tree.

Our children are in fact gorgeous and clever but my daughter has an interesting brain, which on occasion has led to very embarrassing situations such as asking a retired woman out of curiosity “ Are you wearing underwear?”

What we do have in common is our love for things that are opposite from each other. Tui loves high-octane thrill and I like calm and consistent. Tui is patient and I am impatient, Tui likes blockbusters and I like thought provoking art house. Tui likes popping chewing gum loudly and I detest it. Tui likes to be generous with his time and money and I like to be controlled.

A couple of years ago, I was surprised to hear that somebody I knew whose marriage was destined for eternity as they were so compatible, ended. It reminded me of how fragile and unpredictable relationships can be.

Tui and I have had our share of hang ups but as the 7 year Witch presents herself to him, he stays shining his warm Fijian sun smile on me.

I am pulled, challenged, enraged and enlightened by having this guy by my side.

Moving down to Karangahake was my plan and Tui has helped make it happen by being the breadwinner, the composting toilet bucket collector, the dead mouse in the bedroom retriever and the chase after the dog who is chasing the sheep in the neighbors paddock chaser, and the being friendly to all the neighbors to avoid getting the council on our case person. Who else would be mad enough to do this?

Tui is my dream enabler. IDoing what needs to be done to make this year possible. The humble, kind dude in the background.

This year is the year to focus on growing our relationship and love for each other. A concerted effort to keep the communication lines open spend more time enjoying and having adventures together.

On the weekend, we took a trip to New Plymouth for two nights, the first time that we have been able to spend a weekend alone together, without kids.

I stretched Tuis world by oganising bush walks, bike rides and art gallery visits , freaked him out by skinny dipping in broad daylight at an empty beach (but that is for another blog titled, 'do a wild thing that scares you once a month') , while he stretched mine by his happy go lucky and gregarious nature and freaked me out by his ability to open a bottle of beer with his teeth. Taking time to appreciate each others strengths has definately made out hearts grow fonder.

During our time away, Tui talked of his dreams to help his people in Fiji get better opportunities and I talked about all the things we needed to do on our land. His dreams were full for others and mine were full for me. What a balance. Despite our very different way of thinking and doing things, there is a wealth of wisdom, love and lessons I can learn from my Tui.

Tui, there is no one else in the world that i would want to let my farts loose with.

Heres to many more itches together my love.

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