Wednesday, 22 February 2012

Super Bean to the Rescue

This is the power of  Hannah-Bean, Spawn of Witten.

The other day, wife wakes me up at some ungodly hour - like 06h30 - to ask me to rinse her car down. Now, to put this all into context, she works very close to a major construction site that includes a new road being built. To say her car is constantly covered in dust would be a gross understatement.

Being the man I am, I grumbled, rolled out of bed, crept into a pair of shorts, slid into a tatty t-shirt and headed to the front yard still crusty-eyed even after brushing my teeth. Now, as any man would know, dust happens to be waterproof. So rinsing down a dust-covered electric blue vehicle is like trying to counter a gale-force gust with a well-directed fart - no matter the intention, it simply will not work. So instead, I decided to just wash the damn car.

Just before I was about to rinse it down, wife emerges ready to leave for work - despite the hour still being somewhat ungodly by my standards (07h00) - looks at her now clean, albeit soap-sudded vehicle and says "I just asked you to rinse it."

Now, I'm pretty adept at using the English language, but I'm sure "I just asked you to rinse it" can in no way be interpreted as "thanks for washing my car". Either way, I responded by telling her it was the worst thank you I'd ever heard, proceeded to rinse the old girl down (the car, not the wife) and trudged back inside.

My day, now so very nearly ruined at such an early hour, needed rescuing. After my shower, hunched over the sink shaving, Hannah-Bean arrives in the bathroom asking if we can "do that thing we do that we saw on Boomerang". Dads have fantastic memory. I instantly knew what she was referring to. What followed made my day...

Me: Shhh... be vewwy quiet. I'm hunting Wabbit.
Bean: *imitates chewing sound* naah, what's up, Doc?
Me: I'm hunting Wabbit.
Bean: What's it look like, Doc?
Me: He's got long pointy ears..
Bean: *interjects, pointing her fingers at her temples* Like this?
Me: And a white fluffy tail...
Bean: *shakes hips to imitate a tail-wiggle* Like this?
Me: And he hops around...
Bean: *begins hopping around like a rabbit* Like this?
Me: Saaay... you look a lot like a Wabbit

At this point, four-year-old superhero Bean can no longer contain herself. She bursts into raucous laughter, and my half-shaven face - the other half of which is still covered in shaving foam - erupts into a guffaw along with her.

Day made.

Tuesday, 14 February 2012

Random Gusts

They happen at the most inopportune times.

Loved One might almost be wearing a tiny skirt, or you might be sharing a time-stopping kiss, when suddenly *random gust of wind*

But it's the kisses I want to talk about here. Usually, in my experience, the romance of the kiss dies somewhere around the second year of kissing the same person.

Badly Drawn Boy sang a song called "Fewer Words" in which he warns never [to] trivialise the kiss.

It does happen to so many pairs of lips that they never find quite the right pair of lips to be mated to.

Sometimes, there is a pair of lips, a tongue and some teeth that fit together on a face of which the whole becomes so much more than the sum of its awesome individual parts, that one can scarcely imagine ever growing tired of clumsily placing one's own face against aforementioned face of perfection with as much regularity as one can muster.

There are the everyday, garden-variety kisses, sure. But provided it's the right person being kissed, even the casual, sometimes awkward side-of-each-others-mouth-greeting-in-public kiss, or the lazy sun-beating-down-on-my-back-and-I'm-just-enjoying-being-stuck-to-your-face-without-us-having-to-do-anything-else kinda kiss, they're all special.

And then there are those kisses that literally defy space and time. They cause rips in the space-time continuum. Where both parties connect in a way that renders all other physical activity for the foreseeable future incomprehensible. One simply cannot move. One is temporarily paralysed. The earth moves not. Time has, for all intents and purposes, stopped. The bugs have gone silent. The air stands still. Loved One's eyes are still closed, as is one's, and the pairs of lips are mere microns apart, lost - in that momentary eternity - for always...

*random gust of wind*

As if the universe hates it when two people freeze time by simply enjoying making out.

Saturday, 11 February 2012

Couch Times

Never underestimate the power of the couch.

Loved One lying on one's chest, the sound of your heart beating in her ears, your hands in her hair, her breath slowing and deepening as she slips into sleep.

Often, we get wrapped up in overt displays of romance. Candle-lit dinners, grandiose dates and expensive gifts can so easily be replaced by lazing on a tree stump by a mountain stream, chilling on a rock, a long drive, a walk through a park, or just simply watching bad television together lying on a couch listening to the sounds of each other's breathing and heartbeat - and with phenomenal results.

It really is the little things that count the most. It's in moments like those that the true nature of a relationship is brought to the fore.

Are you able to just sit in each other's company doing very little else but sit? If I had my way, it'd be that way every day.

And starry-eyed I would remain forever.

The power of the couch.