Relationships: Share and put in daily (not ‘Share your pudding, baby’)

Relationships aren’t always easy, especially when the two of you are forging a new life in a new country. Work, money and bills can become an iron-fisted triumvirate that, given the chance, will rule your relationship cruelly and bring it crashing down around you. Communication is the only real key to understanding each other. You have to compromise and meet in the middle sometimes and complete acceptance is crucial. But no matter what happens, no matter how high or low you get, no matter what things promise to bind you forever or¬†threaten to divide you in a flash, you should always – ALWAYS – get your own bloody dessert.

Three facts to get this post rolling:

1. Desserts never look as good to my girlfriend when they’re sitting in a cafe’s counter as they do when they’re sitting in my hand.

2. Being acutely aware of this, I always take preemptive action when we buy dinner by asking her if she would like some dessert, then asking her if she’s sure that she doesn’t want some and by finally telling her that I’m not going to give her half of mine if she changes her mind later.

3. My girlfriend knows that her loving boyfriend is wrapped around her little finger and she isn’t above pulling the ol’ ‘puppy dog eyes’ routine to get at my sweets. Consequently, she doesn’t give a #@&% about anything I’ve said in points one or two.

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“Where’s the other half of my…… BAAAAAABE!!!”

The best part of my working day happens when I get home from the office. My girlfriend and I will sit down to enjoy dinner together. We’ll talk about how our day went, we’ll lift each other up if we’ve had a hard one, we’ll watch some TV together, read on the couch, catch up with our mates back home on Facebook and chat the whole way through.

But something sinister takes place most nights right after dinner. A tension settles over us where many a sideways glance is exchanged. We’ll engage in a saccharine struggle for sweets, a showdown for sugar, a taut battle for torte.

The problem is that it’s always my dessert we’re fighting over.

SPR MRKT, the cafe across the road, make some fantastic cakes and tarts including a lip-smacking bread pudding with vanilla sauce (free plug, hook me up with a bread pudding, guys!) that I just can’t say no to. My girlfriend doesn’t really have a sweet tooth but I have an entire mouth full of them so when we grab dinner there, I’ll always pick up some dessert and, more often than not, it’s their warm, soft, scrumptious bread pudding.

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“No, I don’t want one. I’ll just have some of yours.” Wrong, my love. Wrong.

My girlfriend often says that she isn’t in the mood but, if experience has taught me anything, it’s that she will suddenly find herself in the mood for dessert the second she sees me about to tuck into mine. For some reason, sweets appeal to her much more when they’re in my hands than when they’re behind a glass counter. For some reason, they suddenly become irresistible.

And, for some reason – largely a lack of testicular fortitude on my part when it comes to her – she’ll always manage to get some.

I’m not saying she can’t have any of my dessert, because love is about sharing. And I’m not saying that I don’t like sharing with her, because love is also about enjoying things together. And I’m not saying that people can’t change their minds because no one’s perfect.

I’m simply saying to the love of my life:¬†Get your own bloody dessert xo

Fine. You can have some.

Bloody testicular fortitude.

Facepalm: when words just won’t do the trick

Moving in with a partner for the first time when you’ve moved to a new country together can be trickier than tackling a Rubic’s cube blindfolded. If I found out after moving in with my girlfriend that she liked to relax by playing “I’m a barbie girl” at full blast or that she scratched her butt by shoving forks down the back of her jeans and then put them straight back into the kitchen drawer – and I’m not sure which is worse – then I would’ve freaked out, and not just a little.

But I’m lucky. My woman is my best mate and I knew her well before we moved to Singapore. The worst that either of us has put the other through are those moments where the only thing you can do is to put palm to face and shake your head a little.

Gents, feel free to tell me that I’m not the only guy on the wrong end of this conversation:

Me: What do you feel like for dinner?
Her: I’m easy, babe. Whatever you want is cool with me.
Me: Cool, let’s go to that pasta place down the road.
Her: I don’t really feel like pasta tonight, too heavy.
Me: What about that new Thai place that just opened? I wouldn’t mind a nice pad thai.
Her: A bit spicy, babe. I don’t feel like anything too spicy.
Me: Alright… what about a nice, juicy steak?
Her: Nah, I’m not really in a steak mood
Me: Okay, well, what do you feel like then?
Her: I’m easy babe. Whatever you want is cool with me.

But living with me is not exactly a walk in the park. Unless we’re talking about a walk through New York’s Central Park after midnight, in which case living with me is exactly like that:

Her: Babe, Joey just said the funniest thing…
Me: Joey? Jeff’s cousin? He’s on the phone? Say hi for me!
Her: No, Joey on Friends.
Me: Joey Onfrenz? I don’t know anyone named Joey Onfrenz.
Her: No, Joey on the TV show Friends.
Me: Jeff’s cousin was on Friends?
Her: He’s not on Friends, I mean the character Joey!
Me: Yeah, Joey is a bit of a character.
Her: Which Joey? Jeff’s cousin?
Me: (sarcastic voice) Nah, Joey Onfrenz. Of course Jeff’s cousin!
Her: But I’m not talking about him.
Me: Then who the hell are you talking about?!
Her: I’m talking about the character named Joey on the TV showed called Friends!
Me: What about him?
Her: He just said something funny.
Me: What did he say?
Her: He said you’re an idiot.

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Had your own facepalm moments? Sharing is caring, dear reader, so feel free to comment on your own ‘did-she-really-just-say-that/do-that/use-that-to-scratch-her-butt’ moments!