My reluctant muse

My husband recently commented that he'd like me to write about something else other than him for a change. It is fair to say that he is a frequents in my posts, but really, how can I not use him as material when there are such brilliant ideas for a story right in front of my nose!

My friend and I used to say that our writing is so much more interesting and complex when we are unhappy, which usually meant straight after we'd broken up with the latest man of our dreams. Nothing like a tortured artist, hey?

However, I really think marriage has brought this whole extra dimension to my creativity. Still, after almost six years together, I am puzzled by this lovely creature who shares their life with me. There are moments when I think living with a boy is the worst punishment a very organised and slightly control freakish female could have. And then there are those moments when I count my blessings. After all, he really loves me. Why else would he put with my quirks?

So, to my darling husband: thank you for being my muse, albeit a reluctant one. Thank you for letting me be a girl every now and then and thank you for making me cups of tea even though it's 11pm at night and way too late for tea in your opinion. And for everything else as well. I will continue using you as my material, but I'll try to be kind. As long as you don't leave beard hair in the bathroom sink after shaving. Thank you.