Last year, on one arb morning, I woke up to breakfast and Da Husband giving me an awesome new handbag and my favourite biscuits. Appreciative, but not used to gifting of this kind on a random day towards the end of the year, I asked him what the occasion was (OR… what he may have been atoning for).

“Happy wedding anniversary, babes,” he replied.

Oh shit!


Da Husband and I met in 1999, on a semi-blind date, the day after my birthday.  I don’t know what our mutual friends were thinking when they set us up, because I was a non-conformist-feminist-workaholic-creative hipster (see? even then I was ahead of my time) who vowed to NEVER go out with an Afrikaans guy.  And he was (and still is), well, Afrikaans.  I should at this point note that I’m Afrikaans too.  But that’s a story for another day.

Anyhoo, somehow we hit it off and he became the logical, straight-thinking, steadfast ying to my crazy, oddball hypochondriac-paranoid yang.

Da Son arrived in 2005.  Da Chick in 2006.  We’ve been together through thick (my weight-gain) and thin (his weight-loss) and finally got married in 2008 – a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am at Paarl Home Affairs with only our two best friends in attendance.

So, my wedding anniversary is this Sunday, 14 October.  Which I know because I had to quickly check my marriage certificate that’s stapled to the back of my ID book.

Back to the present…

What I love about Da Husband is that there’s never a need to compete.  We are so different that our relationship should only realistically work in a Hollywood movie.

  • He’s an engineer who has worked at the same company since he graduated.  I have worked in so many industries that my CV says something along the lines of copywriter/translator/editor/proofreader/creative genius/designer/wordpress developer/spindoctor/baker/magician (yes, I also happen to do magic).
  • He has an annoyingly awesome natural fitness and seems to be able to master any kind of sport quickly and effortlessly.  I simply think “unfit” and I gain 5kg.
  • He LOVES the ocean, is an amazing swimmer, and loves to spend time on his boat.  I don’t; am not;  get seasick.
  • He’s fearless.  I fear heights, depths, water, enclosed spaces, dying, strangers, public speaking… you get the idea.
  • He’s a great cook.  Da Chick once called me “the baddest chef in the whole wide world”.
  • He loves trail.  I love the road.
  • He’s a man of action.  I’m a procrastinator.

I don’t mind that he goes on extended fishing trips.  He doesn’t mind that I go into silence for a week.

He also has zero interest in anything triathlon / 70.3 related, but will give me the space to do my thing.

Somehow it works.  Somehow we work.  And sometimes I can’t believe that he still puts up with me.

So, before we get to Sunday and in the excitement of the Gun Run I forget our wedding anniversary once again, I just want to say: