I don’t often speak about my husband.
This is not because I don’t love him, or that he is not a big part of my life, it is just that the daily things that parenting entails means that ‘us’ seems to get lost somewhere in the background.
We have been friends for many years and I have been reminded several times lately how lucky I am to be married to such a ‘nice lad’.
There are however several things that irritate or ‘irk’ him about me (that I know of).
One of these things is that I do not know the real words to songs and so, not to be defeated, I often make up the words as I sing along regardless. This perhaps would not annoy any normal person, but my husband likes his music, he knows his music. I however know what I like, and like what I know.
We do share a love for several musical icons – however our largest difference in opinion has always been his love for the band Oasis. They were his college band, they remind him of his young and carefree days, he has every album and has seen them live many times. I have known this of course since we first met, but they are just ‘not my cup of tea’.
If we all liked the same things in life, it would make us very dull
It is a good thing I think to not share all of the same interests or likes, I suppose if we did life would be very boring. Of course when he learned one of his idols was due to play in our home town he excitedly bought tickets and asked if I would go too. I love live music and we don’t often get the chance to have an old fashioned date, and so I agreed. The last time we arranged to go out together it was to watch a movie premier for his birthday just before Christmas, but time went on by and we never made it. We only realised this as we ordered the film on our home movies very recently.
The second thing that we have always disagreed about is Space. The galaxy, the universe, the stars and the planets. My husband is a scientist, I am not. I am more than happy to believe in the proven areas of the universe but I struggle with the idea of alien life forms and black holes. Any of our close friends would laugh at the heated debates that we have had over the years that we have been together.
On the whole though, and putting these things aside I am sure that he would tell you that we are the best of friends.
The evening of the gig came along, and we headed out like the old days the pre-children days. The weather was dreary, it rained constantly and it was grey but the stadium wasn’t far away. We shared noodles as we ate on the move and we shared an umbrella unsuccessfully. Instantly relaxing in each others company we ordered drinks and met briefly with some friends. I had decided that I would go with an open mind and enjoy the music and the time spent on a real evening out with my husband, because they are oh so rare.
As it turned out the music was in fact, good. There were some old favourites that everyone knew the words to (even me) and some new ones that the die hard fans knew too. The evening seemed to fly by and my husband sang to pretty much every song. I think we were both taken back to those college days just for a moment in time – and it was nice, really nice.
The song Champagne Supernova was played and I realised that I knew (most of) the words, but probably in reality I made some of my own up too. Apparently when writing the song, the lyrics had differing meanings for differing moods in which they were written. Ironically that explanation sums up my mind-set at the moment too. I have probably not been the easiest person to live with, I admit that, and yet oddly when music is played everything suddenly seems better.
As the last song was played Don’t Look Back In Anger rang out and the whole stadium joined in, we changed from two tired parents into a happy couple again. We got the train home and we felt as if we had been given a little lift. Quality time spent together when tiredness, work, and family usually take precedent is priceless.
I realised that we really should make more time for each other – to add to our memories together – as the best things in life are often unseen.