The one right under my nose but the hardest to love because he’s right up my nose.
The one who never-says-a word and doesn’t even try to keep up with my brain because it goes day and night pandering to the multi-personalitied mind of its own.
The one who helps look for, and clean the 15 pairs of glasses I have lying everywhere, but cant find anywhere.
The one who, in the interest of staying alive shops and cooks because I hate to do so.
The one who makes us all laugh out loud and loves his daughter-in-law so well.
The one who cannot and will not get an answer out of me for the first fifteen minutes of each day because my mouth is full of coconut oil – in the interests of good health.
The one who doesn’t need to speak to and get and answer from me for the first fifteen minutes of each day because his day begins at 3.30am and mine certainly does not.
The one who adores and lives in spreadsheets and who tries to get me to do the same – but no, bloody heck no, I’m not even vaguely invested in numbers and that’s why I married him.
The one who never reads a book, yet has a far better vocabulary and spelling sense than I, who reads copious piles of the things.
The one who goes to get chocolate after I’ve opened and shut the kitchen cupboards a million and more times looking for something sweet to eat and when he comes home gets accused of not caring about my sugar sensitivities.
The one who has only two pairs of shoes and some slip slops – meticulously removed, cleaned and polished each evening, but only after he’s tripped over and fallen head first into the 15 pairs Ive left lying all over the house.
The one I fight with and sulk over aeroplane seats, but the one whose worked hard enough to afford the aeroplane seats in the first place.
The one who does a 300km per day commute and never complains, and when I do the moaning for him tells me he’s lucky enough to have a job at all at his age so we best be quiet and be thankful.
The one whose genes joined with mine to make fit and fabulous offspring.
The one who understands that women are complicated creatures and just rolls with the munches.
The one who loves the straight and simple things in life: the bush, a braai and a beer
The one, this one: Lincoln James Buck whom I married 33 years ago…. and so has to be the hero.