Paper

So. We have been married for a year. How time flies when you are in constant fear for your life, when you spend your evenings being chased around the house, tickled, poked, made to jump at inopportune moments, when you finally get all the attention you have craved at the cost of living with someone who threatens to send their dimembered toe-nail to one of your dearest friends. How time flies when you are passionately in love with your closest friend - it almost feels naughty being married. We really shouldn't be having this much fun!

The first anniversary is a paper anniversary. I have been thinking of paper gifts to bestow upon my beloved. A magazine subscription? A print-out of the hotel booking I have made for our anniversary? And what will he give me, I have been wondering? An advance copy of his book? A wad of cash?

I mention it to him. "It's paper this year", I hint, gently nudging him to put his thinking cap on and come up with something thoughtful.

"Oh good!", he cries, "I can hit you with a rolled up newspaper!". He grins, the delight twinkling in his eyes.

He nods, and continues:

"Or... yes! I could get some stiff paper and give you paper cuts on that funny skin between your toes!!".

I start to walk out of the room, as the stream of consciousness continues and the threats become more and more inventive. I realise that the challenge this anniversary presents is to make an innocent piece of paper sound as threatening as possible, and it is a challenge to which he rises with gusto.

I love my husband. No-one else has one quite like him, you know.